Byleth: Intimidating Instructor
by Waywatcher
Summary: It's not that Byleth is a bad teacher, it's just that she tends to unnerve or terrify everyone she interacts with.
1. Black Eagles

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.**

**Those of you familiar with **_**Byleth: Peculiar Professor**_ **and **_**Get to Class, or Else**_ **will find this a bit different. Namely, I'm using Female Byleth this time, and I'm giving her a different personality. She's socially incompetant still, but in a different way. Consider this a parallel universe to the other stories. I hope you all enjoy.**

**Also, did you know Petra is the **_**youngest**_ **of all the Black Eagles at 15? Yeah, **_**Petra**_**. Bernadetta, the shortest, is only the **_**fourth**_ **youngest at 17. Also, Edelgard is actually the second shortest Black Eagle at 158cm (only above Bernadetta's 150cm). I know it's not really important, I just find it so fascinating to actually have biological information about the characters. For example, I never realized Hubert is both the tallest and oldest of the Eagles. I figured that would have gone to Ferdinand (who, mind you, is the second oldest and third tallest).**

**Anyways, enough getting sidetracked. Here we go. For some reason I just find Bernadetta the perfect character to test out a quirk for Byleth, so we'll start with her. I guess traumatizing Bernadetta is a right of passage… even if Byleth doesn't directly appear in the first segment at all.**

* * *

The lavender-haired girl pants and leans against the wall. She casts a furtive look behind her, searching for her pursuer.

"_Just a little further Bernie! You'll be safe in your room._" She tells herself, half in a panic. "_They won't kill you there! It would be too suspicious!_"

Bernadetta doesn't actually know who's following her. She saw a figure out of the corner of her eye when she was returning from painting the sunset. Her art supplies are currently stowed in her pockets, and the canvas is under her arm.

"_Why me though!? I'm not important!_" The girl thinks as she resumes her trip, now walking sneakily because she's still exhausted, back to her room. "_M-Maybe they're a vampire, and they want to drink my blood! Or a serial killer who stabs anyone for the fun of it!_"

She hears the snap of a twig and her pace picks up. Adrenaline is making up for the energy she would otherwise lack.

"_O-Or maybe I made an enemy! Maybe someone hates my art, o-or maybe I damaged something when I went to the greenhouse, o-o-or maybe C-Casper is angry about that time I punched him in the face. Oh gods, it's probably that. It's Caspar!"_

That punch was part of a sparring match, and the face is a perfectly valid target because they were both wearing helmets. That bit of rationality doesn't occur to the girl at this moment though. In fact, rationality just isn't her strong suit in general.

"_M-Maybe it's Hubert! I knew he was mad about me dropping my quill too close to him! O-Or maybe it's Petra! I-I probably did something horribly offensive to her culture! Oh gods, oh gods…_" Bernadetta panics. "_Oh gods, what if it's __all_ _of them!? What if they're all coming to beat me up!?_ _O-Or maybe it's an assassin or kidnapper hired by house Hevring to send a message that my family's interference in their sphere isn't going to be tolerated any longer!_"

The girl's imagination spirals more and more out of control, her pace gets faster and faster, and her eyes dart around frantically. Every flickering light is an arrow tip or sword reflecting the moon, every corner hides an assassin, every noise she makes is too loud, every step she takes isn't fast enough, she's expecting a dagger or arrow in the back any second now.

Bernadetta actually misses her doorway due to how fast she's running. She skids to a halt, frantically pulls her key from her pocket, and practically dives into her dorm room. She slams the door shut, locks it, and collapses against the wall.

Only now, safely in her room (never mind that a wooden door is the only thing separating her from any potential assailants, or an easily-breakable window) does Bernadetta start to calm down enough to think with a measure of rationality. She goes through the motions of putting away her art supplies, wraps her painting in a small protective blanket, all while thinking about the narrow escape she just made... or how much of a fool she was.

"_But what if it wasn't a killer or someone trying to hurt me?_" She asks herself. "_What if it was Caspar, but he __wasn't_ _mad, and now that he's seen me running around like a maniac for no reason, he'll think I'm suspicious, and then he'll __actually_ _try and kill me!_"

All this goes through her mind as she changes into her nightclothes and go to sleep. When she turns to actually _look_ at her bed, however, she sees something that makes her heart stop.

There, sitting on her bed, is a note, along with a paintbrush. _Her_ paintbrush. One she must have left behind in her rush to leave.

That means whoever found the paintbrush managed to get back to her room, and get _into_ her room despite not having a key, _and_ had time to write a note, before she ever opened her door.

"_You forgot this! Nice painting by the way, I like how you brought out the reds around the edge of the sun. - B"_

Bernadetta doesn't remember anyone else coming around where she was painting. They even got close enough to pick out specific details, and she never noticed. They could have been peering over her shoulder for who-knows-how-long and she would have had no idea.

That's quite enough for Bernadetta. Her legs buckle, and she faints into her bed.

###

"Training?"

"Gods!" Caspar whirls around, his heart suddenly pounding. "Teach? When did you get in here? Were you here all along?"

"No, I walked in just a minute ago." The lady smiles innocently.

"I didn't hear you come in at all!" Caspar laughs. "You're quiet!"

"Thank you. It's very useful in stealth missions." Byleth says sweetly. "Especially assassinations."

A chill passes down Caspar's spine. "O-Oh, uh, that's cool."

"Indeed."

"So… what are you here for?"

"I was just planning to run some simple drills, that's all." Byleth hums. "You don't mind sharing the space, do you?"

"Of course not!"

Byleth set aside her usual weapon, an unfamiliar single-edged sword that looks to be of foreign make with a circular guard and tight red wrapping on the hilt, and picks up a training sword instead and drags a new dummy to one side of the training pit.

Caspar turns his back to his professor as he goes back to his own training. He has metal training gauntlets on, but he's been unsuccessful in dealing any lasting damage to the training dummy. He can only attribute it to his lack of strength and lack of training.

"Thunk!"

Caspar pauses, and turns around. He blinks in surprise at seeing the training dummy his professor had taken out just a minute before now minus a head. The neck, a solid two-by-four, is completely shattered, and apparently in one strike.

Byleth, ever smiling, just says "oops!" and goes to get a new dummy like shattering a dummy with a wooden training blade is something normal.

Thoroughly unnerved (and a bit annoyed at his own lack of strength compared to his teacher's effortless power), Caspar decides to call it quits for the day.

###

"Hello class."

Everyone freezes for a moment. Conversations stop, and heads whip side-to-side looking for the source of the voice. Petra cranes her neck to try and look behind the curtains, Ferdinand checks the nearest pillar, and Bernadetta even looks behind her at the closed classroom door.

All the students thought their professor was running late, but apparently that's not the case. She's already in the room, but no one can see her.

"Today, we'll be learning about observation and stealth."

There's a quiet creak, followed by a loud "WHAM!" and a yelp as Byleth lands heavily on Edelgard's desk, causing the princess to shout in shock and fall from her seat. Even Hubert, normally the stoic, recoils in his seat from surprise.

There's a long pause as everyone stares at their teacher. She casually brushes off her cape descends from Edelgard's desk. The princess still hasn't gotten off the floor and is gaping with bug-eyed shock at her professor. It's only when Hubert starts to help her up that she comes to her senses and returns (shakily) to her seat.

Someone finally finds the courage to speak. Ferdinand. "Were… were you in the _rafters_? How did you even get up there!?"

"I climbed the pillars of course." Byleth says as if it's obvious, all while smiling. "Although, I suppose I also could have climbed the curtains and jumped to grab the rafters from there, or even leapt from my podium. The doorframe is also an option, though it's a bit narrow. The fireplace is good, provided it's not too hot or you have heat-resistant boots and gloves."

"Erm…"

"You'd be surprised what you can do with good balance, a solid jump, and strong grip." She remarks cheerily. "Anyways, first lesson of stealth and observation: people seldom look up!"

Edelgard, who has just barely recovered from her near heart-attack, puts her head down on her desk. "_Please don't let every lesson in the unit start like this. I won't survive that long._"

###

She may be smiling, but Linhardt has the distinct feeling his professor isn't as happy as she looks. That's a fair assumption considering he doesn't think _anyone_ in the Black Eagles has seen Byleth _not_ smiling, so a smile may as well be a blank stare for all it tells anyone about how she feels.

He wouldn't call her scary, but the total inability to read guess what she's thinking is _very_ unnerving. Intimidating is a better word, maybe even creepy in some cases.

"What is it professor?" Linhardt yawns to try and hide his nervousness. "This is cutting into my nap time."

"School matters are cutting into nap time?" Byleth murmurs. Linhardt isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but her smile seems to grow a fraction. "I see…"

The green-haired boy shifts uncomfortably in his seat as his teacher grins down at him from behind her desk. Her hands are steepled, adding to the somewhat sinister aura she's giving off. Linhardt swallows thickly, and averts his gaze for a moment as he's unable to take the pressure.

When he looks back, he finds Byleth's face only a centimeter from his own as she's learned all the way across her desk. Linhardt freezes instantly and his eyes go wide. He didn't even hear her move. Her smile is as wide as ever, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"I don't mind if you sleep during class if you think you know the material, but I expect your assignments to be _impeccable_ if you choose to do that." She says quietly. "Understood?"

Linhardt swallows thickly. "Y-Yes Professor Eisner."

###

"S-Sorry, I have to go… uh… rotate to the next position." The guard stammers, and quickly scurries away.

"Geeze Professor, you really showed him what-for." Dorothea, who had apparently been watching the whole thing, steps out from around a corner after the guard is far enough away. "What did he do to deserve that? Something horrible?"

The lady, always smiling, turns to face her student. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure what you were saying, but you were totally up in his face! You had him backed against a wall, were leaning over him, were cutting off an escape with one of your arms, not to mention that super-wide and unhinged smile you had on. You really wanted to scare him, didn't you?"

"Oh, uh, no."

Dorothea blinks. "No?"

"No. I didn't."

Now she's almost afraid to ask. "...then what were you going for?"

"I was… flirting."

Oh. _Oh_. Oh… Wow. Dorothea has never seen someone fail so badly at flirting in her entire life. Even an awkward boy who's never flirted before has more hope than Byleth. If Dorothea hadn't known better, she honestly would have assumed her professor was trying to extort the man, and she already though the lady was chewing him out for something.

Taking a deep breath, Dorothea steps forwards and put her hands on Byleth's shoulders. "Professor. Smile for me."

"I am smiling." Well, that's true, she's _always_ smiling.

"Look less stiff about it." Dorothea clarifies. "Not a polite smile, a _genuine_ smile."

Byleth's smile becomes even wider, showing the barest hint of teeth. The problem… well there are several. The smile is just wide enough to look unnatural, her brows are slightly furrowed so it looks like she's leering, and she's now leaning slightly forwards so as to ever-so-slightly be invading Dorothea's personal space.

It doesn't look genuine. It looks like Byleth is planning her murder while smiling in her face.

"_Okay… I have my work cut out for me…_" Dorothea thinks, sporting a forced smile of her own so as to not hurt her teacher's feelings. "Uh, you can stop now."

Byleth does so, and her face returns to the usual placeholder smile. Her student subtly breathes a sigh of relief.

"_Goddess above that's terrifying. That poor guard… How did this women learn to flirt!?_"

###

"There's two of them." Hubert groans.

"Whatever do you mean?" Edelgard frowns, and looks up from her papers.

"Professor Eisner. There's two of her now. It would seem Petra is learning her techniques." Hubert says as he massages his forehead and takes a seat. He points to the window. "You can see for yourself if you care to."

Edelgard really doesn't want to know… but at the same time, as the representative of the Black Eagles, it's her duty to stay on top of everyone's skills and any new developments in _any_ of their lives. She reluctantly pulls herself out of her seat, walks to the window, and peers out.

"Hubert."

"Yes Milady?"

"Please tell me I'm not seeing-"

"You are." Hubert interrupts in a defeated tone. "You are."

Edelgard doesn't want to know _why_ Byleth and Petra are sneaking across rooftops, jumping into trees, and practicing silent landings (which inevitably involves scaring the life out of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the area as they become test targets for the pair's stealth… or more particularly Petra's because Byleth is already a master).

"_I'm going to be looking over my shoulders constantly now, aren't I?_" Edelgard thinks, and massages the bridge of her nose. She shakes her head and returns to her papers, only for another thought to occur to her a minute later. "_Bernadetta is going to be more paranoid than ever..._"

…

"_Wait. Professor Eisner is amazing at silent landings. That means she __intentionally_ _scared us during that lesson._" She realizes. Her eyes narrow. "_Maybe that permanent smile of hers is a sadistic one..._"

###

"Professor… I have a question." Ferdinand says. It's currently lunch break, and the teacher saw fit to join her students in the mess hall.

"Hmm?" Byleth raises an eyebrow, smiling… encouragingly? Or maybe that's her normal, neutral smile. It's hard to tell with her.

"Did you, perhaps, undergo noble etiquette training?" The boy asks curiously. "Some of your behaviours seem to suggest that you have. You can speak very elegantly when you choose to do so, you walk with a straight back and your head held high, and you always have a polite smile. All very noble-like behaviours."

Of course, her tendency to casually climb buildings for no particular reason, never knock or announce her presence, and a number of other things rule out the possibility of full noble training, but she does seem to possess _some_ level of high-class education.

"Ah, that." The lady hums. "Yes, I learned that when training to be an assassin."

Ferdinand blinks in surprise. "Pardon?"

"One of my father's mercenaries is a former assassin. He allowed her to teach me her skills." Byleth says simply. "A lot of it involved disguise and being able to behave in an unsuspicious manner. Of course, I'm not making a particular effort to disguise myself, but seeing as I'm of somewhat high station now I'm borrowing parts of that training so as to not cause a fuss."

"Ah…" Ferdinand says slowly. "Is that right…?"

"Yes."

Byleth's idea of "not causing a fuss" is clearly _wildly_ different from his, Ferdinand decides. Because casually leaping down from rafters and scaring all you students, not to mention having everyone in the monastery at least mildly afraid of you due to your permanent unnerving smile and tendency to show up out of nowhere and without warning, is _not_ Ferdinand's idea of "not causing a fuss".

"If you were to put on your full disguise, so to speak, what would it be like?" Ferdinand inquires.

"Hmm…" Byleth thinks. She takes a moment to compose herself, and Ferdinand realizes she's going to _show_ him. Her smile softens to something less stiff, she clasps her hands, pushes her legs together, and makes sure to keep her back completely straight. Her clothing doesn't reflect it, but her posture is the perfect picture of an attentive young noble girl. "Greetings Lord von Aegir. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Byleth Eisner, daughter of Sir Jeralt Eisner. I do hope we can get along."

It's almost eerie how perfectly she captures the personality of a generic minor lady. Ferdinand didn't think someone as… _unique_ as Byleth could manage it. "That's quite impressive."

"Thank you sir!" Byleth giggles. She leans forward slightly, tilting her head innocently while subtly thrusting her chest forward. "You give me far too much credit, I'm had plenty of help to develop these skills. I had to learn to talk fancy, how to hold myself, how to seduce, and so on. Of course, small talk is also a part of it. Perhaps you'd like to discuss the state of the empire and the ongoing argument between houses Varley, Hevring, and Bergliez? Or perhaps, Sir Aegir, you want to regale me with tales of your deeds and how you're better than Miss Von Hresvelg?"

Ferdinand now knows he's being mocked. "You say that as if I do it often."

"Oh, my pardon, I didn't mean to offend." Byleth gasps. She grabs one of his hands in hers. "Please sir, I apologize."

Ferdinand is slightly creeped out now. "Erm…"

"Incidentally." Byleth says, dropping her sweet fake voice. "You're very dead."

"What?"

Suddenly the professor pulls sharply on his hand, forcing him to lurch forwards into the table. One of her hands snaps out and grabs him firmly by the neck, just under his chin. Her fake smile is gone, replaced with her usual unreadable one. "If I had used a knife, you'd have a slit throat right now. Or I could just strangle you now that I have the upper hand."

She releases him, and Ferdinand sits down hard in his seat. His blood is now pounding, and his breathing heavy.

"Consider that a preview of our next unit on deception." Byleth says neutrally. "Perhaps you would like to help me with the initial demonstration? I usually use Edelgard."

The "without her consent" is implicit. Considering how Edelgard usually ends up traumatized, Ferdinand isn't very enthusiastic about the idea.

* * *

**I hope you all found this entertaining. I tried to keep the core of what I think Byleth is: social incompetence and an almost total inability to be read emotionally. I just executed it in a different fashion this time. F!Byleth isn't quite as **_**simple**_ **as M!Byleth, but what she lacks in brutal bluntness and complete obliviousness she makes up in having zero concept of personal space, and having no idea how scary her incredible stealth skills, strength, and permanent smile can be… as well as having learned to flirt by watching her father's rough-and-tumble mercenary company hit on barmaids and whatnot and try to emulate that, meaning not only is she attempting to play the usually male role but she's mostly only seen the most crude and aggressive flirtations and therefore only has those for reference. (And, incidentally, she considers the seduction she learned from assassin training to be "fake" or "insincere", hence why she doesn't just emulate that).**

**This was so much fun, though I'm not sure if it's quite as good as **_**Byleth:Peculiar Professor**_**. Humor is not something I usually do, so I'm still finding out what works. I do realize this version of Byleth isn't quite as faithful to the game, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same.**


	2. Church of Seiros

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Awaken- **_**Three Houses**_**, not Awakening. I'm so used to putting down Awakening for **_**The Robin Variable**_ **and **_**Varied Awakenings**_… **all rights to the owners.**

**Second verse, kinda like the first. Church staff and professors go!**

* * *

"You're an assassin, aren't you?"

"Well, I have assassin _training_." Byleth says. "Incidentally, you should have come directly from behind if you wanted to surprise me."

"Who said I was trying to?" The raven-haired woman asks, crossing her arms.

"You were slow in climbing, meaning you were likely trying not to make noise. You also were careful to not grab the wooden beams, despite them being good handholds, because they would creak and make noise." Byleth explains. "My hearing is very good though. I heard you anyways."

Shamir purses her lips. "Who are you?"

"Byleth."

"Why are you here?"

"I'm a professor."

"I know that. Why are you up _here_ though?"

"I'm watching my students. Just to see what they're doing." Byleth says neutrally.

Shamir frowns. "I'll be blunt. You look super suspicious up here."

"Only if people see me." Byleth says. "You did, but look, has anyone else?"

The raven-haired lady knows Byleth is right. No one else has raised their gaze high enough to actually see them up here. People seldom look up.

"By the way… you're dead."

"Pardon."

"You're dead. Very dead." Byleth says, and finally turns to face Shamir. The fixed smile on Byleth's face instantly sets the lady on edge. "Unless, of course, you noticed it."

Shamir doesn't know what this woman is talking about. She glances behind her, expecting to see some sort of trap… but there's nothing there. She turns back to look at Byleth, only to find the woman's face only an inch from her own and a sword at her throat.

"Okay, _now_ you're dead." Byleth says calmly. She doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with their extreme proximity, wheas Shamir is _quite_ uncomfortable. "I lied the first time."

"Y-You-" Sharmir is stunned, and quite nervous. She was tricked so easily.

"For someone who I've heard so much about, I thought you would have seen through that. _Never_ turn your back to your enemy if you can avoid it." Byleth advises. She withdraws her blade and takes a few steps back. "Unless, of course, you have a good reason. Like keeping up the appearance that you don't know they're there or something of the like."

"Aren't you quite the instructor." Shamir mutters. She doesn't want to admit it, but Byleth spooked her. Shamir has always prided herself on having sharp eyes and ears, which makes the fact she didn't hear Byleth moving all the more worrisome.

"Indeed I am. That's quite literally my job."

###

When Cyril fell off the statue he was cleaning he was expecting pain, not for someone he didn't even know was there to catch him.

"Careful."

"Uh…" Cyril blinks slowly. His eyes focus on the person holding him, and he instinctively tenses.

He's seen Professor Eisner around before of course. She's the extremely quick, totally silent, ashen-skinned ghost of the monastery who always has a fixed, creepy smile on her face. She's one of the few people Cyril actively avoids (though it's hard to tell where she is at any given time because of the whole "fast and silent" thing).

Maybe she's not as tall as he thought she was, and he can see she really doesn't dress like the weird spy he thought she was; she's got patterned stockings for goddess's sake, and has an exposed stomach and a cleavage window, which seems weird for someone who's a fighter. Aren't those easy targets? That doesn't mean Cyril is any less wary around this woman though. If she can afford to have such obvious weak points and still be respected as a fighter, she must be no joke.

At least, Cyril assumes so. Maybe she's just a nut. She certainly acts the part with all her leaping from buildings and whatnot.

"Thanks." Cyril says cautiously. "I didn't see you there…"

"I've been here for a bit. I thought this might happen." Byelth says. She doesn't realize it, but she's standing uncomfortably close to the boy. Personal space is not a concept she understands all that well. Her fixed smile is enough to unnerve most people, let alone this or any of her other oddities. "Be careful, you can't always rely on me being nearby…"

"Noted." Cyril says. He takes a slow step backwards, and his back meets the statue. He feels cornered, under threat. He wants her gone.

"Do you need help?" Byleth asks softly. She's being totally genuine but, again, her constant smile really doesn't sell that at all. It feels more like a threat considering her expression.

"I'm good." The boy says through a suddenly dry throat. "Totally fine. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" Byleth leans down so that they're eye-to-eye, which really doesn't help because it just brings her face uncomfortably close to his.

"Yep." Cyril squeaks. "_Please leave…_" He thinks. "_And don't stab me._"

The lady pulls back. "Alright. If you-" She stops in the middle of her sentence, and suddenly swings a fist in his direction. Cyril flinches instinctively and raises his arms. He hears a crash, an impact against stone, and suddenly he's _drenched_ in soapy water. He's not dead though, so he peeks out from around his arms.

Byelth's fist has smashed into the front of the statue, chipping some of the stone from the sheer force behind it. The broken remains of his cleaning bucket (which had been up on the top of the statue a moment ago) lie around them, completely destroyed in one punch. It must have just fallen, maybe Cyril hit it on his own way down and it slowly slid off. It would have hit his head if Byleth hadn't caught it… or demolished it in this case.

"Oh, oops. I suppose you needed that. My bad." Byleth says, her smile never wavering.

This is all far too much for Cyril. He sits down hard on the ground, his heart pounding. He really wishes he just hit the floor instead of being caught. He would have been healed up by Manuela, nice and simple. There would have been no crazy-strong, creepy woman looming over him and smashing his bucket.

"Are you injured?"

"N-No."

"You don't sound well." Without asking, Byleth scoops the boy off the ground. She doesn't _feel_ as strong as she apparently is. Cyril doesn't feel much muscle. It's just another weird thing about her to add to the list. "I don't know if you're sick, or you're just lying, but I'm taking you to Manuela."

Cyril decides to stay silent from then on. He's not helping his own case by talking apparently. Anything to get this scary lady to just leave him alone…

###

"Professor Eisner." Hanneman begins. The two of them have sat down in the mess hall to eat, claiming one of the tables in the corner away from the main student body. "I have some concerns about your teaching methods…"

"Really?" Byleth hums, and sips her tea. "What issues do you see?

"Well, first there's the constant terrorizing of your students…"

"I did that _once_, and it was very effective for that matter." Byleth huffs.

"Pardon? Only once?"

"Yes, when I leapt from the rafters."

That _was_ the main thing Hanneman was referring to, but not the only thing. "Yes, well, that is the major instance, but there are multiple accounts of you startling your students by suddenly appearing behind them, or that time you left a note in Miss Von Varley's room, or casually informing your students exactly how you could kill them in any given situation."

"It's important for them to know." Byleth argues. "They're learning to operate in battlefield conditions, and many of my students, all but one, are _nobles_. Assassination is a constant threat. It's _essential_ for them to be constantly on guard, to be able to see where potential attacks can come from and how to fight back."

Hanneman purses his lips. "That's a rather… _depressing_ way of thinking."

"Pragmatism is much more important for someone in a possibly dangerous position. Nobles, especially important nobles, are in dangerous positions their entire lives." Byleth responds simply. "It's important for you to note that I have a sword at my hip, that your back is to the window which makes you an easy target for a sniper, that any number of the people in this room could be hired by me to help, and that I'm an expert unarmed combatant and could conceivably kill you fairly easily _without_ a weapon at all."

She says all this with a smile. That fixed, fake, unnerving smile that masks anything she might actually be feeling. Hanneman is reminded in that moment that he's taking to a professional mercenary and a trained killer. Almost everything she is and does is designed to keep her alive, and she's teaching her students just that.

Or, at least, that's what Hanneman is assuming. He doesn't know much about Byleth at all beyond that she's Jeralt's daughter, a mercenary, and has some sort of assassin training. They have a trained assassin, a mercenary at that, training their noble students…

Hanneman now worries that she could possibly be bought, but pushes that thought aside. "Even so, your duty is to _instruct_ them, not traumatize them."

"I'm not _trying_ to traumatize them. They're just bad at noticing things."

"Professor Eisner, you may as well be a ghost for all the noise you make moving around." Hanneman says bluntly.

"Ah, good. I haven't lost my touch."

Hanneman shakes his head. "You are missing the point."

"No, everyone else is. Or else they wouldn't be surprised so often."

###

It was a passing comment from Manuela as the two were walking away from a staff meeting. "Your fashion sense is quite curious professor. Not _bad_, just curious. I'm interested to know if there's a story behind it, because it's certainly unique…"

"My outfit is practical." Byleth says, much to Manuela's surprise.

"How so? If you'll excuse me saying so, it really doesn't _look_ all that combat practical."

"I never said it was practical for _combat_." Byleth hums. "It's designed to help with assassinations. I have enough armor to protect the easiest parts of my body to hit, like the center of torso, and I have greaves and bracers for some extra simple protection. However, the showing of skin is very important for seduction, and can often give guards pause upon first seeing me which gives me an extra second or two to act which is far more helpful than any armor."

"I-I see…" Manuela didn't think there was extensive thought put into the practical side of her outfit. Clearly she was wrong. "And the cape?"

"It's not what it seems." Byleth murmurs. She offers the end of it to Manuella. The older lady grabs it, and is surprised to find it has a decent weight and rather is rather thick. "The cloth holds a layer of chain-mail. If need be, I can hold it with one hand while fighting to act as a shield. It is not the _most_ effective thing in the world, but still useful. It also gives my back a layer of protection as I fight."

"That seems unnecessarily complicated to me…" Manuela coughs.

"Well, it's also designed so as to be more-or-less appropriate to wear as everyday garb." Byleth adds. "I don't want to be running around in full-plate armor all the time."

"I see." Manuela decides not to comment any further. The mind of a mercenary is apparently beyond her.

###

"You are being unreasonable _brother_." Flayn huffs. "She is perfectly pleasant. I see no reason to avoid her."

"That is just the issue Flayn, she _appears_ perfectly pleasant." Seteth warns. "Yet, there has been plenty of tales of her leaping from buildings, or startling her students on a constant basis. Supposedly she is a trained assassin. An _assassin_! Such a profession is inherently unscrupulous."

"Shamir is-"

"A thief, yes, I am well aware. However, she has proven her loyalty time and again. Professor Eisner has not." Seteth says firmly. "While she may be the daughter of Jeralt, we cannot discount the fact that her motivations at any given time are incredibly hard to read. That fixed smile of her is suspicious at best, as are her general tendencies like jumping from rooftops and whatnot."

"She's _unique_, yes." Flayn says, "but she's nice! She got me that fish I wanted, and she returns a ton of lost items to people!"

"By invading their rooms."

"Well yeah, but she doesn't take or break anything! She's just colorful."

"Colorful, and dangerous."

Flayn didn't notice the hand reaching out towards Seteth from behind until it taps him on the shoulder.

"My goddess!" Seteth startles. He quickly turns in place to face the person. "O-Oh, erm, Professor Eisner. I must ask you to _not_ do that in the future."

"Not try and talk to you?"

"Not startle me."

Byleth tilts her head, still smiling. "I wasn't trying to."

Seteth purses his lips. "Yes, well… fine. What brings you here?"

"Here." She hands a snapped writing quill to Seteth. "This is yours."

"What makes you thin- oh, it is." Seteth coughs. He accepts the broken quill. "Thank you."

"And this is yours." She hands an old wooden hair clasp to Flayn.

"Ah! I was missing this! Thank you Professor." Flayn says, and bows to the woman.

Byleth bows back. Seteth doesn't know if the lady is being polite, or if she's mocking Flayn's formal mannerisms. The fixed smile makes it impossible to tell. This is the core of why Seteth doesn't trust the woman. She's unreadable, but the constant smile makes it seem like she's actively hiding something rather than just having a flat look.

"Seteth." Byleth says to the man. "A correction: assassin _training_, not a trained assassin."

"Ah." She was listening. He hadn't even noticed she was here. Byleth leaves, moving silently across the stone floor. Seteth shakes his head. "See Flayn? She is very suspicious. She was eavesdropping without our knowledge."

Flayn rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes. I suppose that is true. However, I still think you are seeing malice where ignorance is a viable explanation."

"Preposterous." Seteth huffs. "A woman of her age, ignorant of basic civility?"

"Yes."

The man shakes his head. "That _would_ be colorful, and worrying for completely different reasons…"

###

"Aha! Thank you Byleth!" Alois laughs. "We've been looking for this one!"

The man waves some guards forwards, and they slap shackles onto the glowering man Byleth is restraining, and haul him off towards the dungeon.

"Where did you find him? We've been searching high and low for weeks." The man asks curiously. He's not even fully dressed, this being about midnight.

"He was hiding in plain sight, dressed like a student." Byleth informs him. "I saw him out late and followed him, thinking he was actually a student and I should protect him on his way back to his dorm… and then he left the monastery entirely."

"Ah." The man nods. "So you followed and captured him?"

"Yes." She nods, grinning. "I also found these in his room at the Soaring Crane tavern." She hands over a couple dozen letters.

"Quite the find. Well done!" Alios praises. "It would seem your sneaking skills come in handy for more than scaring the pants of people, eh?"

"Pardon?" Byleth blinks.

"Come now! You can't be _totally_ unaware of how your jumping and sneaking around scares most people." Alios chuckles.

"Well…"

"You don't notice at all, do you?"

"No." She says it with a smile, but her tone conveys some disappointment.

"Ahh… well, it's not too bad." Alios chuckles. "After all, people say I tell bad jokes, but I don't see a problem with them! They're a regular _steal_ as far as I'm concerned!"

He waits, as if expecting a reaction from Byleth. When the girl says nothing, blinking blankly. Alios sighs.

"It's because the man you caught was a suspected thief. A _steal_, see?" He shakes his head when Byleth still doesn't react. "Ah whatever. It doesn't matter." He reaches out to her shoulder, pauses, and instead ruffles her hair. "You're a good kid Byleth, and a good teacher from what the students say! Even if you do scare the pants off them. Keep up the good work."

Byleth, now with her hair messed up and falling in her face, just nods uncomprehendingly as the man turns about and follows the guards who took away the prisoner earlier. Alios reminds him, in some ways, of the men in her father's mercenary company: loud and fun. Although he seems a bit more childish than anyone she's worked with so far…

###

"Oops."

"Another one?" Catherine chuckles as she watches Byleth drag another broken training dummy off to the side

"Yes."

"You do know the goal isn't to _destroy_ the thing, it's just to help you practice where to hit things."

"But the neck _is_ where I hit things." Byleth says. "And there's no armor there…"

"The neck is a pretty small target." Catherine warns. "A thrust is likely to miss, and trying to swing a sword there is usually just going to have it bounce off a pauldron most of the time."

"But it also kills them."

"Well yes, I suppose it does, but you can also just aim for the head instead."

"Skulls are tough. Necks are flimsy." Byleth responds calmly. "There's less to cut through."

"I suppose…" Catherine says slowly. "I won't stop you. You've done fine thus far. I'm just giving you food for thought."

Byleth pulls another dummy into the training area, and resumes practicing. This time she doesn't use a training sword, instead choosing to grab gloves and practice her brawling skills.

You would think with padded gloves on that Byleth wouldn't be able to destroy a dummy, and you would be right. However, she succeeds in something equally difficult: knocking the dummy over. The stand a dummy is on, two planks in a cross, is quite sturdy, so it's a surprise that with a single devastating punch Byleth manages to knock the thing over.

"Oops."

Catherine shakes her head and returns to her own training. "_That lady is hopeless, in a brutally powerful sort of way._"

###

"Professor."

"Yes?"

"Please don't _leer_ at the priests during ceremonies." Rhea sighs. "And do not accost them afterwards."

Byleth tilts her head. She's smiling, but the head motion is enough to suggest confusion. "I did nothing of the sort."

The two women are sitting in Rhea's private quarters. Rhea called Byleth in only a few hours after a large ceremony, and the girl didn't have any idea why until now.

"Then please, inform me as to what happened." Rhea sighs.

"I was watching him." Byleth says simply. "He was cute, so I tried to talk with him afterwards…"

Reah blinks. "Pardon me. You are saying you were attempting to… flirt."

"Yes."

The archbishop brings a hand up and massages the bridge of her nose. "Professor."

"Yes?"

"_Don't_ do that." She says bluntly.

"Oh…" Byleth is still smiling, but her disappointment is clear.

"I…" The archbishop stops, then sighs deeply. "Professor, I have nothing against you pursuing someone, but _please_ don't terrorize my priests."

"Terrorize?"

"Just…" There's no good way to explain this to her, is there? Rhea settles for something else: "Leave the clergy alone, alright?"

"Okay…"

###

"That's really creepy you know." Sothis murmurs as Byleth leaves the bar.

"Them?"

"Them too, but also you." The green-haired girl says. "It's just eerie how easily you can slip into that persona."

"I have practiced several personas extensively." Byleth says calmly. "So that I may use them to fish for information or infiltrate. That was just one of many. A young, sly, seductive trader, who is not afraid of some fun."

"Sounds like a book character."

"Yes. The more generic you are, the less people will remember you." Byleth nods. "It was a persona my mentor used as well. She based it off the Annas, so as to stand out even less. While I did not here, it was common practice for her to use red hair dye when assuming the persona."

"So what did you actually learn? It just looked like to me like a bunch of _thugs_ badly flirting with you."

"Remember when I asked the blonde one about the tattoo on his neck?"

"Yes."

"An eagle. That's the national symbol of Adrestia." Byleth says. "The burly black-haired man got agitated upon seeing it. Either he's not Adrestian, or discontent with the government there. Also, the man with the eagle tattoo mentioned that many of his friends also have it. A gang tattoo most likely. Perhaps with nationalist ideals of some sort."

"Oh." Sothis's eyes widen. "What a strange thing to find close to Garreg Mach…"

"Indeed." Byleth murmurs. "And the black-haired man? While drunk, he enunciated more than the others, and rarely used contractions. A noble, or at least someone of standing. Strange to find such a person in a bar that does not cater to them."

"Why was he there then?"

"I am unsure." Byleth admits. "He was resistant to my attempts to pry, despite desiring my attention. He has to keep something quiet, confidential." She's quiet for a moment, then murmurs. "That is assuming, of course, he and the tattooed man are not on the same side. Perhaps he was agitated because the tattooed man was revealing something telling."

Sothis shakes her head. "I'll admit, that's rather impressive. You figured all that off one tattoo and an ugly look?"

"As well as other clues. I am simplifying my observations."

"And all you had to do to get them was get molested."

"Yes."

"You're very calm about this."

"I could have killed them all in seconds if I needed to." Byleth says.

Despite being used to this by now, Sothis is still a bit unnerved how the lady can casually talk about killing half a dozen people with a smile on her face. Yes, she _always_ has a smile on her face, but it's still creepy.

"Sorry, I have to handle this."

"Wha-?" Sothis begins to ask, but she's interrupted by Byleth suddenly turning around while whipping out her sword and running through someone who was sneaking up on her. The man is the black-haired, possibly noble man that she was flirting with in the tavern. A knife slips from the man's hand as he slides of Byleth's sword and lands dead on the ground.

Sothis watches in blank shock as Byleth calmly rifles through the man's pockets, taking a wallet, quill and ink case, sealing wax and stamp, and a number of small personal effects like a handkerchief, wedding ring, spare gloves, and a small tin of shoe-shine.

"No identification. Shame." Byleth murmurs. She calmly picks up the man, finds an alleyway, and dumps him there. She messes up his hair and smears a bit of dirt on his clothes, as well as adding some extra small cuts on his arms and torso to make it seem like there was a struggle rather than an instant kill. She also makes sure to put his knife on the ground near his hand. "There, now it looks like a mugging."

"Y-You just stole all his stuff."

"He was going to stab me. Of _course_ I took his stuff." Byleth hums. "Hopefully I can use his things to identify him. If not… well, more money for me."

"Shouldn't you hand this stuff over to the guards?"

"They won't be able to put it to as good use as I will." Byleth says dismissively. "And they would be less subtle about it. Better for me to keep it."

Sothis shakes her head. "Seteth was right, you _are_ unscrupulous."

"I am concerned with what is practical, not what is proper." Byleth says bluntly. "My father's contacts will be far more help in quietly identifying this man and his connections than the guards."

"Wait, your father has special contacts for that sort of thing?"

"More like his mercenary group happens to have a lot of varying contacts on account of it having such a varied crowd." Byleth murmurs. "One was an assassin from Leicester, another a former Faergian merchant, we have several ex-military from Adrestia, a number of reformed criminals, and we keep in touch with numerous former (and active) spies and information dealers."

"That's a _lot_ of different talent."

"Indeed. It is the exact reason why our group is so effective. We always have _someone_ in the group who knows how to handle a problem, or can tell us about what to expect in an area. It's also the reason we frequently took on such dangerous missions. We are one of the few independent groups with the actual skill and knowledge to tackle such things."

"But you're a mercenary group. You get hired, and then kill things. Why do you _need_ to keep in touch with information dealers and spies?"

"Sometimes we were hired to track down dangerous individuals, and we frequently took part in bounty hunts. Information is just as important there as actual fighting skill, else we would never locate them to begin with." Byleth recounts. "We did not gain a reputation as the most skilled and successful mercenary company _merely_ by being expert fighters."

"_Merely_ expert fighters she says." Sothis huffs under her breath as they walk back to the monastery. "The pride of theses mortals."

* * *

**Umm… not really humor here I guess. It's quite hard to do F!Byleth's style of humor without the students. She's not quite as dense as M!Byleth is, and the other professors aren't ones to be as easily intimidated or freaked out. So instead it's a focus on her peculiar choice of outfit and leaning into the assassin aspect of her character.**


	3. Blue Lions

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.**

**Blue lions… okay, let's do this. Hopefully this will be a bit easier than **_**Peculiar Professor**_**, because this version of Byleth isn't quite as reliant on the quirkiness of other characters to facilitate her own strangeness. She's a bit of a menace, and being a straight-man doesn't mitigate that.**

**Hopefully.**

* * *

Dimitri thinks there's something very off about Professor Byleth. She seems relatively normal. She's friendly, intelligent, and always has a smile on her face. _Always_, as in it never _ever_ drops. She never has a neutral expression on her face. Not when teaching, not when marking papers, not even when scolding someone. Her face seems locked like that. It's only now, after two weeks, that the sheer _weirdness_ of this behaviour has started to be noticed by him and his classmates.

"I never see her around campus." Annette notes quietly. "She's always here before everyone else. I even came really early once, just to see if I could beat her, and she was here waiting at the desk, looking like she was expecting me."

"I do not see her leave." Dedue offers. "Not once. I do not wait necessarily… but on the chance we stay around the outside of the classroom after class for some reason, I pay attention. She doesn't leave through the front. I have gone back inside to get lost items, and she'll usually be gone."

"Wait, she'll be gone, but never left through the front door?" Annette clarifies.

"Yes." Dedue nods. "It is… unnerving."

"Have you ever noticed how quiet she is?" Ingrid adds. "Remember that quiz we were writing two days ago? I raised my hand for a question while still looking down at my page… I didn't realize she'd walked over until she cleared her throat. She was directly beside me."

"She's also has a peculiar way of dressing, and I don't say that to be mean." Sylvain adds. "Her attire is quite... unique. She shows quite a bit of skin as well."

"Of course you'd focus on that." Ingrid snorts.

"Excuse me! She's an attractive woman." Sylvain huffs and crosses his arms. "And her outfit draws attention to her features as well! Her attire doesn't exactly _downplay_ her chest or legs. Quite the opposite."

"That is a fair point. It's another peculiarity of hers." Dimitri nods. "Even professor Manuela is a bit more… erm… _classy_ about her choice of dress. Not that I think the professor is doing anything too inappropriate, but her choice of dress is rather _outlandish_."

"She is the daughter of Jeralt Eisener, and she is instructing us on combat readiness and such." Felix adds suddenly. "And so it makes sense that there are signs of her being a trained soldier in her movements, but… there are other things as well. Have you noticed how she has her podium in the corner of the room? She seldom puts her back to the windows or the door, and so I think she moved it there to facilitate that."

"Now that you mention it…" Ashe says slowly. "I see elements of a thief in her too. She's always scoping out the class. I've seen her eyes focus on Annette's earrings, people's pockets that have an obvious bulge like someone looking for a wallet, and she also notes everyone's weapons each time we come in." He glances at Dedue. "She always looks at your first, and always checks that you have your axe."

"I see." The dark-skinned man shifts in place, clearly a bit unnerved by this information.

"I think she's rather nice." Mercedes offers. "She's very helpful."

"I won't argue with that." Dimitri agrees slowly. "She's just… unusual."

"I hear she's also a trained assassin." Someone says.

"Really?" Ashe blinks. "Wow, that would explain a lot actually."

"Indeed. It would explain why she's so good at scoping out a room…" Dimitri nods.

"And her ability to leave unnoticed." Felix adds.

"Wait…" Mercedes frowns. "Who said that…?"

Sylvain frowns. "Annette?"

"Nope."

"Ingrid?"

"No."

"You're all terrible at noticing things." The voice says. "Look up."

Everyone does so, and many of them blanche upon seeing the person they were just talking about casually sitting in the rafters above their heads. Her legs are crossed casually, and she's smiling down at them with her usual unchanging expression.

"Really now, I thought I taught you all better." She says in a scolding voice. She uncrosses her legs, stretches, and drops off the ledge down to the ground. The landing, surprisingly, is almost totally silent. There's a small "clunk" as she lands, but it's only noticed because everyone is specifically listening for it. "Always look up."

"P-Professor!" Annette squeaks. "H-How long have you been here?"

"A few hours." She says calmly. "I was grading."

"In the rafters?"

"Yes. It's safer."

"Have you even left the classroom all day…?" Ingrid asks cautiously.

"Yes."

Ingrid waits a moment, expecting Byleth to elaborate, but she doesn't. Byleth just keeps smiling that same, fixed smile. It's really unnerving to everyone now that they're paying attention. The smile never breaks, never changes even a little bit, like a mask.

"An assassin you say?" Dedue asks. His brow is furrowed, obviously a bit suspicious.

"Yes." She blinks. "Incidentally, it would have been very easy to kill all of you. I have more than eight knives. You really should look up."

"Is that a threat?" Felix questions.

"No. A warning. Most assassins you meet are probably going to try and kill you." She says bluntly. "You're all nobles, or important to some extent, and so you are possible targets."

"It will not be so easy." Dedue says firmly. "If you had attacked, I would have protected Prince Dimitri."

"Right." She blinks, still smiling. "Above you, by the way."

Dedue looks up, and sees nothing. There's a round of gasps and yelps which causes him to look back down to see Byelth standing on the table they were gathered at, calmly holding a knife to Dimitri's throat. If it weren't for everyone else's reactions, Dedue wouldn't have known she'd moved before looking back. She was totally silent, and fast enough to make that move in less than a second.

"So, like I said, I could have killed all of you." She says calmly, and pulls back the knife. "Never take your eyes off a potential threat if you can avoid it."

Dedue swallows thickly. "Yes Ma'am."

"Good." She pockets the blade, crouches, and suddenly leaps several feet up into the air to grab a rafter and pulls herself back up. "Tomorrow's class we'll begin discussing combat readiness. Everyone bring their weapons and armor." She grabs a book and a quill, which were hidden behind a vertical beam leading up the ceiling. "Dismissed."

###

"Ah, Professor! I don't see you out of the classroom all that much." Sylvain greets as he takes a seat next to the woman. She's sitting in the corner of the mess hall, and has turned the table she's at so her back can face the corner rather than a window. "Have you come to enjoy the fish special today? I have. I hear it's quite the treat."

"It's fish." She smiles at him. "They simply added more seasoning than usual."

"Well, at the very least it will taste better in attractive company?" Sylvain winks.

Byleth is quiet for a moment while staring at Sylvain. Then her smile actually relaxes into something that seems much more natural. "Well, aren't you quite the charmer Sir Gautier?" She says in a tone that could almost be called a purr. "I would _love_ it if you joined me for this meal."

Sylvain gives her a winning smile. His natural charm does it again… or maybe that's just the allure of his crest at work. He knows most women put up with his advances because they hope to gain a higher status through his crest and title rather than any actual attraction to him.

Well, he's more than willing to play their game. After all, it's not like he doesn't play back.

"We don't often see you out of the classroom." Sylvain says conversationally as he cuts up his food. "Do you hide in the rafters all the time? Or do you actually leave?"

"A mix of both. When I'm doing teaching-related things I'm usually in the rafters, and when I leave I take the back exit."

"Back exit?"

"Windows. They're good exits and entrances people don't usually think about, which makes them very useful to people like me."

"Ah." Sylvain didn't expect that. Then again, this comes from the person who casually sits in the rafters for half a day on a regular basis. "Where do you go when you leave?"

"Here, the training area, to visit my father, or just to roam around. I _do_ roam, you all just rarely notice me." She hums.

"Well, that's a travesty I hope to correct." Sylvain winks. "You're far too lovely to go unnoticed and unappreciated!"

"I'm unnoticed when I want to be." Byleth says. She leans her shoulder against him (giving him a nice look at her cleavage he might add) and not-so-subtly rests a hand on his leg. "Although I suppose I could show myself a bit more, just for you~"

"Please do." Sylvain says with a grin. He's surprised at how easy this is. He would have expected a teacher, much less a self-proclaimed assassin, to be much more difficult to successfully flirt with. "You're too much of a beauty to go unseen."

"Sir Gautier, are you flattering me?"

"Depends, is it working?" He asks in return.

"Maybe."

"Then yes, I am."

They finish their food while trading small talk. Actually, Sylvain does most of the talking, edged on by Byleth's encouragement. They both politely ignore the curious looks that they're garnering, and when they're both finished eating, they walk out of the mess hall.

Byleth actually keeps herself pressed into his side as they walk, and has an arm looped through his. Sylvian isn't about to complain about having a shapely woman at his side, especially when it means he gets his arm pushed into her chest. That's _very_ nice in his opinion.

"Sir Gautier." Byleth murmurs, and strokes his shoulder. "I have a place I like to visit with quite a nice view; would you like to see it with me? No one really goes there, so we'll have it mostly to ourselves..."

"That sounds _fantastic_." Sylvain agrees. He allows her to pull him along to one of the more _unused_ corners of the monastery, with a view overlooking the mountain path that travels to and from the town below. It really is a nice view, and Sylvain suspects it will be doubly so in several hours when the sun sets and colors the sky in reds and oranges. "My, you know how to choose scenery professor. I may have to make use of this place myself…"

He can see this being a _perfect_ spot to take a girl on a date. This is quite a nice tool she's dropped into his lap.

"Sir Gautier… _Sylvain_…" Byleth purrs his name, elongating the 'v' sound. She turns to face him directly, and presses herself bodily against him. Sylvain particularly appreciates how her large breasts squish up against his chest. Her left hand strokes his hip while the other tangles with his own hand. "I've heard rumors about you Sir…"

"Which one? There's quite a few." He chuckles.

"About how you're a horrible womanizer." She says while pouting her lips at him. It's quite the inviting sight, especially combined with her half-closed eyes. She's also putting a lot of her weight against him, which is making it a bit hard to stand upright.

"Well, I won't exactly deny that…" Sylvain says, taking a step back to regain his balance. Byleth takes a step forward to match it, keeping herself pressed right against him. He can feel hand playing with his, her fingers fiddling with his own.

"And how you have quite the weakness for a lady with a large chest." Another step back from him, another forward from her.

"What self-respecting man doesn't?" He jokes.

"And how you're very, very…" His shins meet the stone wall, but Byleth doesn't let up. The boy is forced to lean backwards, and she finally distangles her hand from his. Both of her hand them come to his shoulders, and lie there for a moment. Her pout suddenly vanishes, replaced by her normal mask-like smile. "Foolish."

She pushes lightly, and Sylvain topples backwards. His back doesn't meet the stone wall like he expected. It's a knee-high wall. He was distracted by the Professor, and never considered what was behind him. His arms flail out, trying to grab something, _anything_ as he loses his balance; he feet leave the ground, and for a moment he's certain he's going to fall into open air.

One of Byleth's hands shoot out and grab him by the collar, stopping what would have been a several hundred meter fall down a rocky cliffside. His feet aren't on the ground, and the only other thing keeping him up is the back of his knees desperately trying to grip the wall he was just pushed over.

"That was pathetically easy." The lady says calmly as she watches her pupil flail. He grabs her arm, eyes wide with panic, pleading at her not to drop him. "All it took was a pair of breasts, and you did everything I wanted. I gave you time to react as well. I could have just as easily stabbed you as soon as we were alone. Instead I slowly pushed you over a wall, and you still didn't expect anything."

"Wh-Wha-!?"

"Did you even check if I had weapons on me?" She asks impassively, apparently content to let him dangle over a cliffside for the moment. His life in literally in her hand. If she lets him go, he's dead, and there's nothing he can do about it. "Or watch for poison? I know you didn't pay attention to your pockets, I took everything off you and you didn't notice."

Just to prove her point she removes his coin purse, his quill case, his fancy dagger, his _belt_, and even his family ring that was on his finger, from her pockets and drops them on the floor beside her.

"Everything." She repeats calmly. "And you never noticed, because you were too busy looking at _these_." She pointedly slips an arm under her breasts and lifts them a bit, as if he didn't already know what she was talking about. "Far be it for me to shame a healthy sexual interest, but you mustn't allow it to _kill_ you."

"I-I didn't know this was a test!" Sylvain protests.

"Assassins aren't going to announce they're here to kill you. They'll just kill you. You have to look out for these things on your own." Byleth warns. "Not every lady is going to want your crest. Some will want your crest _gone_, and I've just shown how easy that is. I didn't use my best plan either. I could have had you dead in a minute of sitting down next to me without anyone suspecting it was my fault."

"I get it, I get it!" He squeaks. "C-Can you please pull me up now?"

###

"Gah…" Felix grunts as his teacher's sword smashes down on his. For a so-called assassin, she fights like a brute. She's overwhelming him with sheer strength rather than finesse or skill. Not to say she's particularly unskilled of course, she's clearly a good swordswoman, but she's not relying on her skill at the moment. Her battle plan is clearly just to beat him into submission.

And worse, it's working. She doesn't have quite as much brute strength as Boar (which, if anything, is a testament to how absurdly strong Dimitri is rather than any lack of strength on Byleth's part) but her edge on Boar in terms of skill and experience makes her infinitely more troublesome to beat anyhow.

Another overhead strike slams down on his blade, and he barely holds. He shoves it off to the side and tries to counterattack, but suddenly finds a boot in stomach and is kicked to the ground. He raises his sword desperately to blocked the next attack he knows is coming, but it doesn't matter. There's a sharp "CRACK!" as his wooden practice sword breaks under the sheer force of his professor's attack, and her blade smacks him harshly on the head.

"Oh, sorry." She says, and offers him a hand up. He reluctantly accepts. His head hurts, and it will probably bruise unless he gets it healed, but it's nothing of significance. He'll ask Mercedes to help after this done. "I forget how frail these weapons are sometimes."

Frail? Training swords are made to be durable and hold up to quite a bit of punishment. It's not that the weapons are frail, it's that she's stupidly strong. "If you say so Professor. You don't fight as I expected you to. You claim to be an assassin, but you fight in a quite straight-forward manner relying on sheer strength more than anything."

"I'm more than capable of doing something else, I just figured this would be the best way to beat you." She says calmly. She's smiling in his face, but then again, she's _always_ smiling in _everyone's_ face. Her 'mask' (as the students now call it) really is impeccable. "You have trouble beating Dimitri, who uses much the same plan, so I decided to abuse that weakness."

That stings his pride a bit, but she's right. "Now _that_ is what I'd expect of a career mercenary. If only more knights had that mindset and were less focused on chivalry and such."

"With any luck, I'll have taught all of you to think the same way by the time I'm done with you." Byleth says. "Do you want to go again? I can fetch another sword…" She glances at her own blade, which has several noticeable dents and cracks. "...or two."

Felix doesn't want anymore bruises, to his body _or_ his pride. "I think I'm good for now Professor."

###

Ashe actually likes sky patrol duty. It's not that he's particularly good at it, he's not very fond of pegasi or wyverns, he just likes the view from up high. He can look down upon the monastery and see the goings on of everyone below.

He's tried picking out his classmates before. Some are easier than others. With his dark skin and white hair, Dedue is the easiest. The other Lions have more generic hair colours, which is a bit more difficult to spot. People like Caspar or Hilda stick out like a sore thumb, as does Bernadetta on the odd occasion she leaves her room, purely on account of having rare hair colors.

He's managed to pick out every other Lion at least once though, so for the last few times he's been trying to find Professor Eisner. She's _very_ hard to spot, though that might be because she doesn't leave the classroom much at this time of day, but he still tries anyways.

Today, he actually gets some success… but he doesn't spot her where he expects. She's not walking along any pathway, she's near the top of one of the cathedral's spires casually talking with another unknown woman while they exchange punches.

Yes, they are sparring atop a spire, on _quite_ unstable footing. Ashe circles once around the building just to watch in fascination.

Apparently he's noticed though, because both women stop what they're doing to stare up at him. Professor Eisner waves, and Ashe returns it sheepishly before pointedly flying in the opposite direction.

He has quite a story to tell the others over dinner though.

###

"You're part of the church, right?"

"My word!" Mercedes gasps. She turns around to see the professor standing right behind her; so close in fact that Mercedes feels the need to take a step back to put space between them. Byleth basically had her nose in Mercedes's hair from how close she was. "Professor! I did not hear you."

"Good." Byleth says. "You're part of the church, yes?"

"No, I am merely a devout follower." Mercedes murmurs with a shake of her head.

"Ah." The teacher's reaction is hard to read considering her expression doesn't change. Just the same fake, fake smile. "Well, maybe you can still help me."

"What do you need to know Professor?"

"What is church protocol for dealing with disobedience?" Byleth asks. "As in, the rebellion of another branch of the church?"

"Is this about the Western Church incident?" Mercedes murmurs.

"Yes." Byleth says calmly. "I have realized I am insufficiently knowledgeable about the church, but asking Rhea or Seteth would get me biased answers. You are likely to be more forthright, as you hold no significant station in the church… or _any_ station apparently."

"Well, I don't think I'm the _best_ person to ask, but I'm happy to try and teach you." Mercedes says. "Talking religion can take a while though. Maybe this is better done over tea."

"I can do that." Byleth nods. "Can we do it now?"

"Professor… it's almost past curfew." Mercedes murmurs. "This is hardly the time."

"Oh." She glances out the window. "Right, you students don't stay up late."

"Yes… and professor?"

"Hmm?"

"You could have knocked. I presume you came in the window, but there was no need for that." She admonishes softly.

"A good assassin never comes in the front door, unless they're in disguise." Byleth responds as she opens up the window and step out. "We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight Marshmallow."

Mercedes watches the lady leave, and closes her window and curtains after the professor is out of sight. She turns back to her desk, which she was just cleaning up after writing a small essay, and finishes that up.

One thought sticks in her mind as she goes to bed though: "_Marshmallow?_"

###

"Stay still." Byleth tuts. Dimitri awkwardly keeps his eyes open, and tries not to flinch away as the brush slides on his skin just millimeters from his eye. He didn't quite expect this talk to go this way. All he said was that he was tired, but that he didn't want to show a bad example to the rest of the class. He never considered makeup.

In hindsight, it makes total sense the Professor knows how to use makeup though. She's talked about disguise before in class, and recounted some of her own disguises. Of _course_ she knows how to use makeup.

"There we go… now just don't rub it too much. You can wash it off later with water." She says as she pulls away the brush. The makeup she had put on his face before, which stuck out like a sore thumb, now blends perfectly with his skin tone… so long as you don't look _too_ close. It's a quick and dirty job, but quite effective considering that. "I expect you to go to sleep early tonight as well, understood?"

"Yes Professor." He replies sheepishly. "My apologies. I was looking over reports from the kingdom. My regent, Rufus, deals with it all at the moment, but as soon as my education is finished I will have to take on those duties, and so I must have all the necessary information _beforehand_."

"I am not disagreeing." Byleth says. "Merely reminding you that your own exhaustion is just as potentially dangerous as being underinformed. You must strike a balance."

"I know…"

"Apparently not." The teacher replies flatly. "Or you wouldn't have walked in here looking half dead."

Well, Dimitri can't exactly argue with that.

"Now, I've hidden the bags under your eyes, but if you want to fool everyone you're still going to have to _act_ not tired." Byleth reminds him.

"Of course." The prince sighs. "Thank you professor."

###

"Ack!" Annette squeaks as she tries to hold all the groceries up. She has a lot of bags, maybe she shouldn't have done this by herself…

"Need help?" A pair of hands reach around from behind her, and snag several of the bags from her hands.

"Professor! I didn't realize you were here." Annette says gratefully. "Thank you."

"I followed you here." Byleth admits without an ounce of shame. "I heard you were going on your own, so I've been escorting you."

"Oh… I didn't see you."

"I know. I was making sure not to be seen." She says flatly. "It's dangerous for a lone woman, especially a girl as young as yourself, to be walking about on her own."

Annette pouts. "Come on professor, it's just the town. It's basically a part of the monastery."

For just the barest moment, Annette thinks she can see the lady's mask fall, and the barest hint of a worried frown cross Byleth's face. It's only a moment though, and the fake smile is back up quick. "It's not safe, unless you're prepared to fight, you should be going with someone else."

"Come on." Annette huffs. "Just because I'm a girl I can't go to town on my own?"

"You can. Just be prepared to stab someone if you need to." Byleth responds curtly. "There's a reason parents worry about their daughters being out at night. This society may _technically _gender equal, but do not be so naive as to assume that everyone thinks that way. Some people still think in the old ways… and the old ways are considered distasteful for a reason."

Annette was mostly joking. She wasn't expecting her professor to take this so seriously. "I know Professor, but I don't want to have to be escorted every time I leave the monastery."

Byleth's face is unreadable. "That's fine… just be prepared."

"I am." Annette reassures. "I have magic after all! I can blast anyone who tries to mess with me!"

The lady nods in approval. "Are you prepared to do so though? Are you prepared to attack someone if you need to?"

"I… yes." Annette nods. "I can."

"Hmm… alright." Byleth says, sounding a bit reluctant. "Be careful."

"Of course."

"If anyone messes with you, tell me. I'll stab them."

"Please don't…"

###

"Another one?" Ingrid sighs as she opens the letter. "Oh dear…"

"More marriage prospects?"

"Yes. Not that I'm eager to choose one." Ingrid sighs. "Though I suppose I will have to eventu- wait, Professor? When did you get here!?"

"Just a moment ago. I was going towards the greenhouse." Byleth says casually. "I overheard you talking to yourself though, so I thought I'd stop by."

The two are just out the back of the dormitories. Ingrid had just returned from getting her mail, and had opened this letter from her father on the way back.

"No one good?"

"More like I'm not looking to get married quite yet." Ingrid sighs. "Though, I know it would be of great benefit to my father if I were to do so. There are many other noble houses that would pay handsomely to get my crest into their family, and we could quite use money."

"You are poor?"

"Poor relative to other nobles, though not poor by the standards of commoners." Ingrid clarifies. "I would not dare call us properly poor. It would be an insult to those truly in need."

"I see…" The teacher says slowly. "Marriage…"

"I suppose you've never had to deal with such things." Ingrid sighs. "Being a mercenary rather than a noble."

Byleth nods. "Are you… supposed to accept marriage without dating the person in question?"

"Dating for nobility is a _luxury_." Ingrid sighs. "Yes, I would likely not date."

"How unfortunate." The teacher muses. "Though I suppose it is not as if I have ever dated either…"

"You haven't?" Ingrid asks, sounding genuinely surprised. She figured someone as attractive as their professor would have had _numerous_ advances made on her during her lifetime.

"No. I've tried approaching people myself, but that doesn't work. Everyone seems off-put." Byleth says. She's smiling as she always is, but there's a hint of sadness in her voice. "And when they approach me, they also back off really quickly most of the time, unless I'm using a persona."

"_Maybe if you stopped jumping from rooftops and rafters it would help,_" The girl thinks to herself, though she doesn't say it aloud. She doesn't want to be mean. "Well, your personas are less… _unique_ than your actual self. Perhaps others are simply… erm… not open-minded."

"Maybe…" She murmurs. "But this should not be about _my_ issues. Have you never had a date either?"

"That's really not the problem here…"

"Ah, right, you don't want to marry. Because these men are beneath you, yes?"

"Well, not quite that." Ingrid coughs. "The issue is more that I simply do not wish to be married at the moment. I am focused on becoming a knight currently."

"Of course, of course." Byleth nods. "So… with that in mind… want to spar?"

"Will you break my weapon?" Ingrid asks dryly.

"Probably."

"_Well, at least she's honest._" The girl sighs. "I'd be honored, Professor."

* * *

**This was more difficult than I expected as well. There's just something about the Blue Lions that makes humor difficult. It's probably because they're the least quirky/most serious of the three houses, so they lend poorly to humor and better to a proper story.**

**At least, that's my theory. I'm taking a guess. Maybe it's just my familiarity with the Black Eagles that allows me to do so well with them, and I'd do better here if I knew more about the Blue Lions. I dunno. Also, again, I'm trying not to reuse the same jokes, which is making things **_**very**_ **difficult.**

**Whatever. I hope you all enjoyed this anyhow.**


	4. Miscellaneous

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.**

**Okay, uh, so since the Blue Lions pathway is taking me a long time, I figured I should do a miscellaneous chapter for Intimidating Instructor as well. Also, I just want to write more Intimidating Instructor, so yeah.**

**Here we go.**

* * *

Petra waits patiently, dagger in hand, behind the door. The windows are all closed so no one can see inside, and Byleth is due back at any moment. She's going to succeed this time, she has to!

She hears the sound of footsteps outside the door, and raises her dagger in anticipation. The door creaks open, someone steps inside, and Petra-

-is grabbed from behind, her dagger arm twisted to drop the weapon, and then forced to the ground. The person who walked through the door, a tall, scruffy man with blonde hair that Petra recognizes as Jeralt, leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Huh, well I guess that's a failure."

"Indeed." Byleth's voice suddenly says from behind Petra. The girl realizes the person restraining her must be her professor. She never heard the woman enter the room. Fitting. Petra regretfully admits that she still has must to learn. "However, it is a step up from her previous attempt. No one noticed her entrance, and she made sure it was not possible to see her from outside the room knowing her camouflage skills were insufficient." The teacher then addresses Petra directly. "What did you do wrong?"

"I failed to account for unconventional entrances once more, and did not keep up my monitoring of my surroundings. I estimated too highly in my preparations." She admits. "My apologies Professor."

"Do not be. Assassination is not something that can be learned in a mere couple of months." Byleth says, and lets her pupils stand. "That is why you learn in a safe, consequence-free environment."

"Of course Professor." Petra says, and bows to the lady. "I hope to be obtaining more learning from you in time to come."

After a bit more discussion of where she needs to improve, Petra exits and leaves Byleth and Jeralt alone in the room. The man takes a seat at the desk while his daugher checks all the windows before taking how own seat on the bed.

"You know, when you invite me to talk, I'm starting to expect it's just because you need me to act as bait for something." The man says dryly. He's smiling though. He's more amused than annoyed.

"You are the only one I can trust with such tasks. You don't disclose my reasons for asking for help."

Jeralt chuckles. "You make it sound so serious."

"It is."

"Ah, right, you're _always_ serious." The man says with a shake of his head. "And here I was hoping these kids would get you to calm down a bit."

"As a professor, I cannot appear weak in front of my students." Byleth replies curtly.

"Of course, of course… and I assume that means you haven't dropped your smile in front of them either?"

"Of course not. It is imperative that I maintain my mask. An assassin never shows their true self."

"I'm fairly sure that's _not_ what Acrim taught you." Jeralt sighs. "I'm fairly sure it was 'keep up your mask while on a mission' not, 'keep up your mask at all times, _ever_'."

"Being a professor is a mission."

"No, it's a job."

"Job, mission. Different words, same meaning." Byleth says firmly. "Language doesn't always work the way you expect it to."

Jeralt sighs again. He's raised her _too_ well apparently. He remembers telling her exactly that when she was four because she always thought different words _had_ to have different meanings. He's amazed she remembers what he said word-for-word. "I suppose I did say that, didn't I? Let me say this instead though. You're allowed to relax around your students… except maybe Petra, seeing as you're teaching her to be an assassin."

"She is unpolished, but most promising." Byleth says. Jeralt can even hear a faint hint of pride in her voice, which may as well be heavenly praise if it's strong enough to leak through her mask of a smile.

"That good, hmm?"

"Yes." She nods in affirmation. "Had I not seen potential, I likely would have not offered to train her in the first place."

"Don't want to risk Acrim seeing your apprentice as a disgrace to the practice?"

"No." She says quickly. Too quickly.

"_I'm totally right._" Jeralt smirks. "_Of course she's worried that her mentor won't approve._" He decides one more question is in order. "Does Acrim know about Petra yet?"

Byleth is silent for several seconds. Then she quietly says "No…"

Jeralt leans back in the chair and laughs as his daughter glares at him. Her smile mask drops to a death glare that would be terrifying if he didn't know it was just his daughter completely exaggerating her emotions.

Well, it's better than the stone-faced neutrality she always had as a child. She doesn't know how to emote _genuinely_ unless she really overdoes it.

Ah well, it's better than the totally flat expressions she had up until she was seven…

###

She found it! Ah, this is perfect, just the color she needed. A nice, deep blue. At least, that's what she thinks it is. Using candlelight to find appropriate thread colors is probably not the most effective… but it's better than going out during the day and risking having to _talk_ with someone.

"Good… now we just need some purple cloth." Bernadetta murmurs to herself, and stuffs her new acquisition in a basket she's carrying under. "Hmm… maybe I should just get some white cloth and dye it. That might be easier… ooh but purple dye is _expensive_, and I'd have to _talk_ to a vendor."

She shivers just thinking about it, and resolves to instead search the other cupboards of the art room. They're all close by anyways, they're in this room. It might take a bit to open every crate and box to find some, but it will be well worthwhile.

"There's some to your left."

"AAAAAAHHHH!" Bernadetta shrieks. She's dead! Done for! Someone's caught her sneaking out at night, and now they're going to run her though thinking she's a thief, a spy, an assassin!

O-Or maybe _they're_ a thief, a spy, or an assassin, and she's seen something she's not supposed to, and she's being silenced before she can say anything!

"I surrender! I surrender! Don't kill me!" She cries, throwing her hands up in front of her face to block an incoming attack. She totally forgets the candle she's holding, and it very nearly burns her hair. The other person grabs her arm, holding it still, and quickly pries the candle out of her hand. "I swear, I'm not a spy! I'm just getting art supplies!"

"Good, because you'd make a _terrible_ spy with how obvious you are." And unfamiliar female voice says flatly. "I would know."

"B-Because you're a spy?"

"In the sense that I occasionally do spying, yes." The lady raises the candle to light up her face, showing a phenotype Bernadetta isn't familiar with. Her skin is slightly tanned, but her eyes seem… stretched? And her face is very smooth. Her hair is also pure black and perfectly straight, though tied into a ponytail about halfway down her back. Her eyes are a calculating grey. Bernadetta can't even begin to guess her age. "My job description is technically 'assassin' though."

"Aha… hahahahaha…" Bernadetta laughs unstably. Her knees wobble, her arms get weak, and her vision blurs. "Of course… just my luck…"

The girl promptly faints, and collapses.

###

At first, Byleth thought it was a test. It has been a long time since Acrim made a nighttime visit. They sparred only a few days ago anyhow, so unless there's an emergency (which is unlikely) there's no reason for her to be here.

So, of course, Byleth assumed it was a test to make sure she hasn't gotten rusty. She opened the door with one hand while bringing up her sword in a defensive position with the other.

Seeing the lady carrying a limp Bernadetta over one shoulder and a basket in the other, however, makes her dismiss the thought of a test. "Before you ask, yes, she does that fairly frequently."

"Ah, good. I was hoping it wasn't just me."

"She is easily startled. Apparently I am particularly startling."

"Good. That means you're keeping up your training." Acrim nods approvingly. She glances at the girl she's holding again. "So… which room is hers?"

"I'll show you." Byleth says, and sheathes her sword. "She never bothered to replace her window latch, so it's very easy to get in."

"You don't have a master key for her room? I thought that's something you would have."

"Oh I do." Byleth says. "But it's unnecessary. After all, the point of a back entrance is so you don't need a key."

This is not the first time Byleth has said something to this effect, and Acrim has long since given up trying to convince her otherwise. Besides, she's probably partly responsible for Byleth thinking in such a manner in the first place. "Lead on."

###

"There's two of them. Oh goddess…"

"Actually, I hear the Professor has been teaching Petra as well." Caspar offers.

"Three? _Three_!?" Bernadetta whines. "Save me!"

"Come now, surely it cannot be _that_ bad." Ferdinand scoffs. "The Professor is perfectly pleasant, and I am sure her mentor is as well, and Petra is nothing to fear."

"She said I'm food!"

"I believe have already clarified that I do not wish to eat you."

"Eeek!" Bernadetta dives under the table. "D-Death has arrived on brown and purple wings!"

"I do not have wing- oh! I see, that is a metaphor. You are speaking of my hair and my skin, yes?" Petra muses. "I understand now."

"How long have you been standing there Petra?" Dorothea asks.

"Only a moment. I have just done the finishing of my lesson with the Professor." The girl says, and takes a seat.

"And where is our dear Professor now?" Dorothea prods.

"Y-Yeah…" Bernadetta says. She peers over the edge of the table as she slowly creeps out from her hiding place, and glances all around the room, with special car placed to check the rafters. "She's not going to appear from the rafters, or come through a window, or down the chimney?"

"I don't like to come down the chimney if I can avoid it. It's usually dirty in there."

"AUUUGH!" Bernadetta dives under the table again.

"Hello professor." Dorothea says calmly. "How did you get in this time?"

"Roof."

"Pardon?" Dorothea blinks.

"The roof." Byleth repeats, wearing her usual smile.

"How did you come in through the roof if not the chimney?"

"I made a hatch." She says calmly. She ignores her student's shocked expressions at her flagrant disregard for school property. "Bernadetta would have seen be if she looked a bit earlier. You're getting very close Bernadetta, you're doing well. Awareness is paramount after all."

The lavender-haired girl's only response is a pitiful whine.

###

Dedue grunts as his opponent's sword slams down against his shield. Both the sword and the shield are wooden, but his foe's sheer strength makes the man worry they're going to _break_ either the sword or the shield.

Dedue spares a glance behind himself to see how much distance he has until he's backed against a pillar. He looks back just in time to see the sword jabbing at his face, and he brings up his shield just in time to deflect it.

"Careful." The Professor murmurs, retracting her blade. "Look away at the wrong time, and it could be the death of you. You got lucky this time."

"Of course." Dedue responds with a grunt. Byleth tries to move around to his unguarded side, and the man responds by hacking at her with his axe. The Professor quickly moves back to her former position to avoid it.

"Good space control." She nods approvingly. The lady executes another heavy overhand strike, but lets it slide off his shield so she has momentum to backstep with the follow-through. This is followed up with a leg-sweep to abuse his raised guard, but Dedue manages to back away out of the range of her legs. "But you're still losing ground. I have offensive momentum."

Dedue can't deny that. He hasn't been able to land a hit on her, or find a way to threaten her enough that he can force her to move back.

Then, Byleth does something unexpected. She smacks Dedue's axe with her sword, and grabs the edge of his shield with her free hand. With her brute strength she forces his shield open and slips inside his reach. This creates the awkward situation of the two of them being nose to nose, and being far too close to each other to actually use their weapons.

"What do you do now?" The Professor asks calmly.

"I…"

"Too slow." Her head snaps towards his, and Dedue flinches at the feeling of something hard on his nose. It takes a moment for him to realize those are his teacher's _teeth_. He freezes, realizing his defeat. Byleth keeps their position for a few seconds, then removes her mouth from his nose. "You need to act instantly, use any advantage you can think of. Biting, gouging, head butting, or a good kick in the groin. Incidentally, I would have kicked you in the groin were you an actual enemy. That is not something you can do in sparring though."

"Understood." Dedue nods. He's actually _very _uncomfortable at the moment. His Professor hasn't moved out of his space; they're chest-to-chest, and with how he's been made aware of just how vulnerable he is in such a position, he feels _incredibly_ vulnerable at the moment. Byleth's unchanging smile doesn't make him feel any more comfortable.

"Always keep in mind your strength. If you're stronger than them, you can abuse that sheer strength to overpower them. Otherwise you're going to have to rely on technique and skill, although _always_ using technique is advised as well." Byleth comments.

"Noted." Dedue responds. "_Now please move away…_"

###

"_I don't want to know, I don't want to know, I don't want to know._" Edelgard tells herself. Yet, she can't help but watch with wary curiosity as the Professor walks down the street with Flayn thrown over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "_I don't want to know… but I really should ask._"

With a resigned sigh, Edelgard moves to intercept her teacher.

"Professor, hello." The princess says quickly when the woman notices her. "If I may ask… what has Flayn done to deserve such a fate?"

"Nothing!" Flayn protests with a pout. Now that Edelgard is close enough, she can see the green-haired girl is soaking wet. "I was just fishing!"

"You fell in the pond, and your clothes are heavy. You could have drowned."

"I can swim! And I only fell in because you appeared behind me out of nowhere! You startled me!" Flayn protests. "Don't try to blame this on me!"

"It is not my fault you lack awareness."

"I don't need awareness! Not here at least. Must I be paranoid in my own home?"

"This is a monastery and a school, rife with strangers. You can never assume you are safe. You must suspect everyone you are not intimately familiar with, and always be on your guard." Byleth scolds. "I pushed you in the pond, and you never saw it coming."

"Pardon?" Edelgard interrupts. "You _pushed_ her in?"

"Of course. It is a professor's duty to test their students and make sure they are retraining lessons."

"But not by _pushing them in a pond_." Edelgard sighs. "Honestly Professor, that's going a bit far."

"Really? This is tame compared to my training…" She hums. "Ah, of course, I forgot you are all novices. My apologies."

Flayn's eyes narrow. "Is that an insult Professor? I'll have you know I am _quite_ intelligent!"

"I see. Then please explain to me the rules of being a good warrior. Just a few will do."

"Well…"

"Or, tell me how to be a good scout."

"Erm…"

"Or tell me how to assassinate someone, or seduce someone, or how to effectively spy on a target and gain information."

"I… don't know any of those things."

"Then you are a novice." Byleth says flatly. "Perhaps you should consider joining my class."

"If it involves getting pushed in more ponds, I'll have to decline." Flayn responds in a huff. "Must you deal with this every day Lady Edelgard?"

"Yes, _multiple_ times a day, and I surely have a shorter lifespan for it." The Princess replies dryly. "Flee while you still can."

"That's unlikely to help you. I'm very fast."

"That's not what… never mind." Edelgard sighs. "Just get Flayn dried off before she catches a cold."

* * *

**Nothing too special here. I've noticed as these chapters continue, I'm leaning harder and harder on the 'assassin' aspect of Byleth's personality and less on the 'social awkwardness' part. I feel like I exhausted the social awkwardness opportunities very quickly with her, or at least it's not as natural for me to do as it is in **_**Peculiar Professor**_**.**

**Oh, I should also touch on Acrim, seeing as I've introduced her here. For Peculiar Professor, Jeralt is the only important character in regards to understanding why Byleth acts like she does (as well as a **_**general**_ **idea of what mercenary life is like) but with Intimidating Instructor, she explicitly has a mentor who has clearly shaped some of her personality, so I thought it fit to toss her in here. Tell me what you think. Acrim won't be a frequent member of this story either way, but I want to know if she's particularly unwelcome (on account of being an OC I suppose).**


	5. Golden Deer

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses. All rights to the owners.**

**I have no ideas going into this. Let's see what I can think up…**

* * *

"Teach!"

"Yes?"

"Oh, wow, you were actually there…" Claude chuckles as his professor calmly leaps off a nearby building to land next to him. "Were you following me Teach? Naughty naughty."

"Says the boy sneaking out of the inter-house dinner."

"Ah, you got me." The boy chuckles. "You make that sound like a bad thing Teach, what if I'm doing this for the benefit of everyone?"

"And what benefit would that be?"

"Removing _you_ from the hall."

Byleth blinks. "You knew I would follow you?"

"Of course! You're too perceptive to _not_ have noticed. I figured you'd think I had some sceme concocted and would chase me."

"Why is removing me from the dining hall a good thing?"

"You tend to cause competition Teach." Claude chuckles. "Dimitri and Edelgard both want to impress you, you know. They're going to quip at each other, argue, and generally try to one-up each other as long as you're there. I could see them getting a little heated, so I may have baited you out here. Hope ya don't mind."

Byleth eyes him appraisingly. At least, Claude is going to tell himself that it's appraising. Her expression never changes, so really he has no idea. She could be planning on putting a dagger in his head for all he really knows.

That doesn't seem her style though. She's been a tough cookie to crack, but Claude has identified a few concrete things about her. Mainly that she's a weird mix of hyper-competence in combat, warfare, survival, stealth, and similar matters, but totally _in_competant when it comes to basically anything else, especially social situations that _don't_ involve heavy manipulation.

He hasn't told her to her face, but he finds her incompetence adorable. He wants to tell her just to see how he responds… but he won't, because, you know, she's his _teacher_.

"So you led me out here to stop Dimitri and Edelgard from fighting?"

"Yep."

"I see." Byleth says, and nods. "Good thinking… but what do we do for now?"

"Well, what do you usually do in your free time?"

"Train."

"When _not_ training."

"I mark tests."

"I said _free_ time Teach."

Byleth frowns. "I… spend time with Father."

"...is that it?" Claude asks in surprise. "You don't have a hobby or something?"

Byleth doesn't respond. She keeps up her smile, but Claude reads a measure of discomfort in her posture.

"Wow, okay, you need a hobby." Claude says in surprise. "Seriously Teach. Your whole life shouldn't be training with occasional talks with your pop."

"I teach as well."

The boy rolls his eyes. She's missing the point entirely. "That's a job, not a hobby."

She tilts her head. "What would you suggest?"

"Doesn't matter what _I_ think. A hobby is supposed to be something _you_ enjoy." Claude snorts. "What do you enjoy Teach?"

"Train-"

"_Aside_ from what you do already."

Byleth falls silent again. She considers all her likes and dislikes, trying to come up with something that could possibly become a hobby. She really doesn't do much aside from hone her own skills when she's not teaching. She practices stealth and observation, she practices her swordplay, hand-to-hand, and dagger throwing, and occasionally visits her father. That's really it. She doesn't fish, she doesn't collect nor practice tea, nothing. If she's in her room, she's either taking care of her weapons, sleeping, or grading papers.

"You don't have to tell me now, just think about it." Claude says after a minute, seeing that his professor is having trouble. "It'll be good for you."

She nods in understanding.

"Now that we've given their lordships a moment to calm down, let's go back, shall we?" Claude grins. "I was hoping to get some of those ribs. I hope Raph hasn't taken them all."

###

"O-Okay!" Leonie pants. "J-Just let me catch my breath… whoo… I'm still… gonna beat you."

"Right." Byleth smiles.

The two women have been sparring for nearly two hours by this point. Leonie is bent over with her hands on her knees, panting, and sweating profusely all the while. Byleth has worked up a bit of a sweat herself, but seems to be in much better condition than her student.

"Don't look… so smug!" Leonie threatens weakly. "Stop smiling!"

"Why?"

"You look condescending!" She barks.

"I see… but there is a point to my smile." Byleth murmurs.

"What's that?"

"Manipulation." She says honestly. "People tend to be more favorable towards you if you smile. Visible emotion is a powerful tool. If I frowned all the time, I'd look less approachable and less pleasant, which isn't my goal."

"Wait, wait… you keep your smile up to look pleasant, right?"

"Yes."

"So does that mean you're not actually happy right now?" Leonie asks suspiciously.

"I'm happy enough to be training with one of my students, but I'm not _ecstatic_ if that's what you mean." Byleth offers. "I do not feel particularly strongly about training."

Leonie's doesn't know what to think about that. Her professor just admitted to conscious, constant deception via schooling her expression constantly. That's a bit unnerving, right? It's not just her?

"Now, are you ready again?" Byleth asks. "Or do you need more rest?"

"No, I can go again." Leonie grunts, and lifts her spear. "Alright, let's do this."

###

Lysithea glances up from the book she's reading. She blinks, rubs her eyes, and squints at the candle, and then the window. She blanches slightly when she sees stars outside, and a pale full moon hanging in the sky. She's been here a lot longer than she planned on being. Granted, if sh didn't have classes tomorrow, she'd gladly stay up longer, but Professor Hanneman's class is first thing in the morning so she should probably get back to her room.

Reluctantly, the girl packs up her papers, quill, and ink, and returns the books she was reading back to their proper spots. She then picks up her candle in its holder and exits the library reluctantly. The torches in the halls have already been extinguished, leaving the girl to navigate only by the moon where it shines through the sparse windows and the sparse light of her candle.

The darkness alone is a bit unnerving. Lysithea would tell anyone who asked that of _course_ she's not afraid… but she is, just a little bit. That's why when a shadow momentarily crosses a window in front of her she freezes in place. That was no small shadow, and she heard no sound. It's too small for a bat, and too silent for an escaped wyvern or pegasus.

Lysithea rapidly shakes her head. She's being foolish. Of course it's nothing. The monastery is perfectly safe. She does pick up her pace a bit though, wanting to get back to the comfort of her room as soon as possible.

She moves down the stairs at a brisk pace and exits the cathedral. She spares a look back as she leaves, half expecting to see some dark shape swooping down from the spires, but of course there's nothing.

"Why would there be? It's late. You're not a child Lysithea." The girl mutters to herself. "Bah, this is absurd. I'm seeing shadows and ghosts where there are none…"

The girl makes her way past the classrooms, nodding to a few patrolling guards as she does so. Their footsteps and their torchlight fade away as they round a corner, and the brief respite Lysithea had from the darkness is over.

Something from the corner of her eye catches her attention, and her gaze snaps to the roof of one of the classrooms. She doesn't see anything now, but she swears there was something there.

"I-It's probably just a cat or something." She mumbles, and clutches her candle tightly. She curses the way her heart is racing and her veins pump with adrenaline. "Just a cat…"

Even so, she runs the rest of the way back to her room. She all but slams the door behind her and quickly locks it. The girl sighs in relief as she puts down all her things and starts to prepare for-

"You've got sharp eyes."

"AAAAHHH!" Lysithea doesn't hesitate to fire off Miasma, and the darkness shoots from her hand to impact the ceiling harmlessly. Her shriek is stopped a moment later by a hand covering her mouth, and her wrist is also grabbed to stop another attack.

"Good reflexes too." Byleth remarks calmly as the girl struggles. "Although your aim could use a little work."

Realizing that the intruder is just her professor, Lysithea stops squirming and the woman releases her. "Wh-What are you doing here?!" She hisses. "Why were you on the ceiling?!"

"I'm usually on the ceiling." Byleth says with a shrug. "Stealth practice. I came here, followed you from the library actually, to warn you about staying up so late again. I can applaud dedicated research, but your overall productivity will be lower if you are tired. Even if not for school's sake and just for your own work, it would be best to go to bed on time."

"My research is far more important that sleep."

"Then you should sleep, because you forget more things when you don't get enough sleep, so you'll just have to learn them again." Her professor reminds her as she moves to the window to leave. "A smart soldier gets good rest, it's more important than nearly anything else."

"Fine." The white-haired girl mutters. "I'll try to remember next time."

"Good." She steps out of the window with an ease that suggests this is a practiced maneuver… and considering how often she enters rooms through strange places, Lysithea doesn't doubt it _is_ practiced. "Now sleep."

The window slides closed and Lysithea rolls her eyes. Just her luck that the year she gets into the academy, they recruit a weirdo ninja teacher. At least the professor seems more interested in other students like Petra, Raphael, and Dimitri, more than her.

The girl puts away her quill case and changes into her nightclothes, and then extinguishes her candle. She slides into bed and relaxes, allowing her already droopy eyelids to close fully. Pleasant sleep finally starts to reach-

"Oh, don't forget to meet at the training grounds instead of the classroom tomorrow."

"Goddess-! _Leave!_" She barks, and glares at the woman who has stuck her head in through the window again. The professor withdraws her head without comment and again, silently, closes the window.

Maybe she was wrong. This place _does_ have a ghost. It's got blue hair, an attractive body, a creepy fixed smile, and apparently has no sense of social propriety…

###

"-one ninety nine, aaaaand two hundered." Raphael grunts. "Whoo, I can feel that. What about you Professor?"

Byleth nods. The burning in her arms can hardly be ignored. "Quite. What's next?"

"Next is food! I dunno about you, but I'm _starving_! Gotta keep that energy up!" The boy smiles. "I hope they've got some good meat. I could go for a steak."

"Unlikely. Steak will probably be kept for dinner. However, they may have rabbit, or smaller meats." Byleth says.

The two walk over to the dining hall, grab food, and sit down. Raphael's portion is obviously larger than Byleth's, but hers is hardly small. The first few minutes of the meal are occupied by the two of them stuffing their faces. However, after the bulk of the food is gone, the two actually talk a bit.

"There aren't many people who can keep up with my training professor. I'm surprised you can!" The boy says. "You're a lot stronger than you look!"

"Good." Byleth grunts. "Being underestimated is always helpful."

"Well, I wouldn't say people underestimate you." Raphael chuckles. "I think almost all the students are a bit scared of you professor."

"Even you?"

"A little. I've never met someone who can match my strength, but you can also jump from buildings and appear from nowhere. That's a bit scary." He says.

"I see." She doesn't sound particularly put off by that fact. If anything, she sounds amused. "I hope that doesn't dissuade you from training with me. I find you quite a good training partner."

"Really? Well thanks Professor!" The boy says with a big grin. "Of course it doesn't stop me! I haven't been able to find someone who can keep up since I was little! I'm not about to give up my best training buddy!"

"Good. What's next by the way? I'm done eating."

"We gotta wait for the food to settle first, but then I think we should do some more lower body training, and then some endurance stuff like running!"

"Got it." Byleth is more than willing to let Raphael dictate their routine. It's quite the wringer, which she can appreciate. Her own routine was starting to become inadequate before she came to the monastery, and Raphael's was just the replacement she needed. It also helps he's just really friendly...

###

"Romantic advice? Well Professor, you've come to the right place!" Lorenz Hellman Gloucester says proudly as he sticks his chin up proudly. It's only natural she'd come to such a distinguished, and knowledgeable noble as himself for such a delicate matter. "I do consider myself a bit of an expert on such things, you know."

"I do know. Hence why I'm asking you." Byleth murmurs. "I seem to fare very poorly in all of my attempts, and no one is willing to tell me why. Not even Dorothea, and she usually doesn't mind giving dating advice."

"Well, I am more than willing to be your instructor!" Lorenz chuckles. "It is only fair, I must repay you for the education you've been giving us!"

"I'm fairly sure that's why you pay the monastery."

"Oh please! Such a pittance is insufficient compensation." The boy says dismissively. "Now, there is some easy advice that can be given without me even knowing your situation. Some _essentials_ to flirting are universal! A pleasant smile, sincerity, and some more subtle aspects of body language." Lorenz explains. "The lack is sincerity is why Sylvain never succeeds, see?"

Byleth nods seriously, hanging on to his every word.

"An immediate problem that I can see is that your usual smile looks rather… fake. Or just _polite_, but not genuine." The boy says critically. "You can smile genuinely, yes?"

"Of course." Byelth nods, and does so. Her new smiles stretches the edges of her face unnaturally, and the slight head tilt that comes along with it adds to just how eerie it looks.

"Hmm…" Lorenz frowns. He quells the shock he's feeling and tries to think through this. He was expecting his professor to maybe have some minor issue, not for her to be terrifying to merely look upon. "Erm… alright…"

"Is there something wrong?" The professor asks.

Can he really tell her that she looks creepy? That would an impolite thing to say to a woman. She asked for his help though… Hmm... "W-Well, not quite. Your smile is _unique_ is all. You look very… _enthusiastic_."

"Good."

"S-So, erm, you have claimed before to be a skilled assassin, yes?"

"Indeed."

"Then you are versed in seduction to an extent, correct?"

"Yes. Very much so."

"Well, many of the same principles of seduction apply to flirting." Lorenz says. "They are quite similar after all. Both activities are simply a way of enticing someone else, although for slightly different ends."

Byleth's smile changes to a furious looking glare, and Lorenz recoils slightly. "You said to be genuine, yes?" She asks in a low voice.

"Y-Yes?"

"Seduction is a falsehood." She responds firmly. "That would not be genuine of me."

"By that logic Professor, being polite is also a falsehood." Lorenz scoffs.

"Ah." She blinks. Her glare turns to a flat, emotionless expression. "That _is_ a good point. So I should seduce them?"

"Erm… not quite." Lorenz coughs. Unless she's going for a one-night-stand, that would _not_ be a great idea. "You are attempting to establish a _connection_, and outright seduction is not _quite_ the best for that."

"But you just said-"

"I said it was _similar_ to flirtation." Lorenz sighs. This is a lot more difficult than he expected. He's having more trouble explaining this than he was expecting. "Okay, erm… this might take a while…"

###

"Lorenz."

"Ah, Hilda. How rare it is for _you_ to approach _me_. To what do I-"

"What the fuck did you tell the professor?" She interrupts with a scowl. "What did you do?"

"You have to be more speci-"

"Why is she leering at the gatekeeper? _Again_? Dorothea stopped her from doing that before and now she's at it again!" Hilda huffs. "She just came away from talking to you, right? What the hell did you tell her?"

"I simply gave advice!" Lorenz scoffs. "Apparently our dear professor has had issues with romance, and seeing my _incredible_ success in that area, she asked for _my_ assistance."

"You're joking."

"Not so! Ask her yourself." The boy smiles smugly. "She was quite the disaster before, judging by what she told me, but with my _expert_ advice, she should improve dramatically."

"Then why is she creeping on the gatekeeper?!"

"The gatekeeper? I thought she would aim a bit higher…"

"That's not the point you shallow ass!"

"Pardon you! I know, and _respect_, my responsibilities as a noble! It is my duty to aim high, and I encourage others to do so as well!" Lorenz huffs. "Besides, what is the problem here? If the professor wishes to pursue the gatekeeper, who are we to stop her?"

"Have you _ever_ seen her flirt before?"

"Well no-"

Hilda promptly grabs the boy by the arm and drags him over to the main gate. They pass by a number of students who raise amused eyebrows at the two of them. Lorenz curses the hit to his reputation, but Hilda ignores everyone they pass.

"_Look_. This is _your_ fault." Hilda growls.

Lorenz blinks as he gazed upon the scene in front of him. One of the two guards is pointedly looking away, looking like he's trying very hard not to laugh, while the other is pressed against the wall looking for an escape from the woman leaning over him. She has that wide, creepy smile on her face again. She's also following some of the advice Lorenz gave and is incorporating some of her less manipulative seduction techniques, mostly surrounding how she's posing her body, but the creepy smile really just ruins her attempt.

"Ah… okay… I understand." Lorenz coughs. "She's much more aggressive than I expected."

"Stop her." Hilda snaps. "This is _your_ fault."

"Fine, fine. Let it never be said that Lorenz Hellman-"

"_GO_."

"Alright, alright." He sighs.

Hilda watches the boy go and talk to Byleth. She shakes her head and lets out a long sigh. She hates to stop the professor, she knows the woman means no ill, but there's no way Hilda can let her go around terrorizing the guards.

_Someone_ is going to have to teach Byleth basic social and flirtation skills at some point… but it won't be Hilda. Too much effort. Poor professor, she's gotten stopped half a dozen times now. Hilda really does feel bad, but it's probably for the best she's stopped for the foreseeable future.

###

"You have many similar paintings."

"Ah! Oh, Professor, I didn't realize you were here!" Ignatz breathes. "Did I lose something? Is that why you came?"

"Yes." She points to a blue stone sitting on his desk. "I got distracted after, looking at your paintings."

"O-Oh!" The boy squeaks. "Wh-What do you think?"

"They're good… but very similar. Especially the paintings of people. You seem to pain Rhea-like people a lot."

"Oh, that!" The boy says, and blushes. "Erm, that's because I'm trying to paint someone in particular."

"Rhea?"

"No." He mumbles in embarrassment. "The Goddess."

"I see." She murmurs. "Then you'll want to make her smaller. Use Flayn as a base perhaps. Her hair is much more messy, and her outfit more… skimpy."

Ignatz blinks rapidly. "You talk like you've seen her."

"I have. She's right here." She gestures to the air beside her.

"Erm…" The boy doesn't know what to say about that. "If you say so professor."

"I do." She nods. "However, if you seek to improve your art in _general_, I suggest you draw more people than just Rhea. If you draw only one body type, then you'll have a very limited understanding of how to draw people _in general_ aside from that one type."

Ignatz's brow furrows. "That… makes sense." He nods. "I never considered that before. That's probably standard practice… I wouldn't know I suppose. I'm self-taught."

"Well, better to start now than never. If you are looking for particulars, I suggest Flayn, Marianne, Dorothea, Edelgard, and… men. In general. All your paintings are women thus far." Byleth says. "Dedue, Ashe, Hanneman, Hubert, and Raphael, if you need specific suggestions."

"Thank you Professor!" Ignatz says with a hasty bow. "I'll be sure to remember that!"

"Good." She nods. She carefully puts back the coverings on the paintings, and returns them to their spots. "Consider asking for permission first. Not everyone takes kindly to being painted."

"O-Oh! Oh course, I should have thought of that." Ignatz coughs.

"You have my permission, incidentally." Byleth blinks. "And don't forget the assignment tomorrow."

With that, Byleth steps out the window and leaves, leaving Ignatz alone in his room. The boy sinks waits for a few seconds, seeing in she'll return, but when she doesn't he lets out a shaky breath and sits down on his bed, then buries his face in his hands.

His embarrassment takes several minutes to pass, but he isn't able to look his professor in the eye for nearly two weeks afterwards.

###

"You would make a good spy…"

"Wh-What makes you say that Professor?" Marianne stammers.

"You are inconspicuous. Most people tend to ignore you." Byleth says. "_That_ is a useful trait. Someone ignoring you can act without raising their concern. You can listen in on conversations, walk past guards without too much scrutiny and without them remembering you, and various other benefits."

"Ah."

"It also helps that you are quite attractive, but it is subdued enough so as to not be obvious. That can be useful as well. Going from plain to pretty can be drastic enough on it's own to make you look like a different person, not to mention all the benefits of manipulation and seduction that come from being attractive." The woman murmurs. "Hmm…"

Marianne fidgets under her teacher's scrutiny. The two of them are in the cathedral, and it's late in the afternoon. She was just doing afternoon prayers when the older woman dropped down from the rafters and started talking to her. She's not used to such intense attention… or being called attractive, by _anyone_.

"I could train you." Byleth says suddenly. "I could teach you to be a spy."

"L-Like Petra?"

"Not quite. I'm training Petra to be an assassin. That's more stealth and killing focused, rather than reconnaissance, infiltration and manipulation focused. I would be teaching you how to listen, how to avoid being noticed even more, and how to abuse people's expectations to become forgettable." She offers.

"I don't think I'm very suited for that Professor."

"I disagree, but it is your choice." The woman says with a shake of her head. "You have potential, and I would love to see you use it for something, even if not for my suggestion."

"I don't want to put anyone else in danger Professor. It's best I don't pursue anything…"

Byleth tilts her head in slight confusion. "How would you put others in danger? Are you violent?"

"No Professor. Merely cursed…"

"I suggest talking to Manuela and Hubert then. Both of them are experts on curses, albeit for different reasons."

Marianne shakes her head. "Not a normal curse, it is my crest."

"Hanneman and Linhardt then… and probably still Manuela and Hubert."

"I-It's not my place to drag others into my problems Professor."

"It's my _job_ to get involved in your problems, Marianne. As it is Manuela and Hanneman's as well." Byleth counters. "Whatever you are worrying about, I can guarantee it is a solvable problem."

Marianne shakes her head again. "It's not so simple…"

"I said…" Byleth says slowly. "I _guarantee_ it. I was not joking. There is no such thing as an unsolvable problem, or in this case, an unbreakable curse."

Marianne falls silent. What is she supposed to say to that?

"You don't believe me." The teacher says calmly. "That's fine. You don't have to believe me immediately. I can wait. When you want to learn how to manipulate people and get rid of curses, we'll be here for you."

"R-Right…"

Byleth leaves, stepping silently across the stone floor. Marianne watches her leave with conflicted feelings. She'd love help, but she knows she _shouldn't_ accept it. She has no right to bring misfortune on anyone else, even if it's for the purpose of them helping her cure her curse.

Feeling disheartened that to let down her professor, she makes her way back to her room.

* * *

**I expected the Golden Deer to be easy, and some of them were, but some characters like Marianne and Ignatz were quite a spot of trouble. The only part that struck me as really good was Lysithea, though I know I tend to be critical of my own work, so maybe there are more good ones in here than I think.**


	6. Miscellaneous 2

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.**

**Now featuring Monica. Yes, I know she technically has a C in bows. Shush. My story. Here we go.**

* * *

"Monica."

"Professor, hello!" The girl smiles. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Or maybe you were just trying to scare me? I've heard you tend to do that. I'll have you know I'm a bit of a sneak myself. I was going through training to be an assassin before I got taken."

"I need to talk with you."

"Is it going to take long? I need to meet Edel soon."

"This is more important." Byleth responds flatly. "Your grades suck. So does your archery."

Monica huffs. "Hey! I just got back from being _kidnapped_, cut me some slack."

"Perhaps you'd like to go home for the rest of the year then." The teacher suggests calmly. "If you can't adequately focus on your work, some time off might help."

"Uhh… no, no!" The redhead laughs nervously. "I don't need that!"

"Then you need to start putting in an effort to keep up." Byleth says bluntly. "I can give you some extra help myself, but I am busy. I'll help you with tactics, but you'll need to improve your math, science, and so on your own time. I can help you find tutors for those things, but that is all."

"Fiiine." Monica huffs, hiding her annoyance. "Can we discuss the details later though? I really need to get going."

The professor stares intensely at the girl. For a moment, Monica thinks she's actually going to answer _no_, but instead the professor nods silently and walks off. Monica lets out a breath, scowls for a moment, then turns around to go find Edelgard.

###

"Ignatz."

"Wuah!" The boy yelps. He fumbles his paintbrush for a moment, but manages to grab it before it hits the ground. "P-Professor, what is it?"

"How often do you have free time?"

"P-Pardon?"

"How often are you free?"

"I- um- often enough? Why?"

"I need you to tutor someone." Byleth responds calmly. "If you have time."

"O-Okay?" Ignatz replies hesitantly. "Who? And in what?"

"Monica. In archery."

That's not quite who Ignatz was expecting. "Monica… she's the one who was rescued alongside Flayn, correct?"

"Yes. She's training to be an assassin, but she's bad at archery." Byleth responds bluntly. "You're an archer. You can teach her to shoot."

"I-I suppose so, yes." Ignatz says nervously. "I've never taught anyone before though…"

"Simply parrot what I have told you in the past." Byleth instructs. "You need not be a perfect instructor. Much of her learning will happen on her own, and if she is stuck on something _then_ she can come to myself, or perhaps Hanneman. You need only lay the groundwork. Perhaps you can even work _together_, should you both be at a loss for something."

"A-Alright…" Ignatz agrees reluctantly. He's never talked to Monica before! He can't deny this situation makes him somewhat nervous.

"Good. I will inform Monica of the arrangement." The teacher nods. She turns to leave. "Expect her to contact you soon."

"O-Okay."

###

"Should I feel bad for him…?" Dimitri asks slowly.

"No, I think he's enjoying himself." Ingrid replies with a sigh.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Sylvain whines. He tries, and fails, to pull his head out of the leglock Byleth has him in. There's some debate if this hand-to-hand training lesson has any practical use, or if Byleth is just messing with Sylvain.

Really, both are valid reasons as far as Dimitri is concerned, though as house leader he should probably put a stop to this… but he won't. Because Sylvain totally deserves this.

"Ack, I give!" Sylvain coughs, and slaps her leg. "I give, I give!"

Byleth stares for a moment, then releases him. She sits cross-legged as Sylvain coughs and massages his neck.

"Geeze Professor…" He says after he's caught his breath. "You're not supposed to _kill_ your students."

"You're alive, aren't you?" Byleth responds.

"Yes, thankfully." He grumbles. "Geeze Professor, you play hard. All I did was say that girl had nice legs… to her face. Okay, so maybe I was a little too upfront, but this is overkill."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I simply realized, as a front line fighter, you should have some level of skill in hand-to-hand in case you are fully disarmed." Byleth says with her usual fixed smile. "Now, if you have recovered, let's go again."

"Oh Goddess no…" Sylvain groans.

Ingrid smirks from the sidelines, and Felix just sighs. Dimitri doesn't know what to do, so he just stays quiet and watches in morbid fascination.

###

Byleth already had trouble flirting with people. She accidentally terrifies most people she tries to flirt with, and that's just by virtue of a _really_ creepy smile and overly-aggressive tendencies.

It's only gotten worse now that whispers of her interactions with Ferdinand and Sylvain, as well as her usual warning about using seduction as a weapon, have gotten out. Now most of the targets of her affection aren't wary just because of her smile, half of them suspect they're being manipulated, or that she's planning to kill them.

It's horribly unfortunate… but Claude can honestly say he's never seen anything more hilarious in his life than his teacher just saying "hello" with her creepy genuine smile and the priest she was addressing running away in a dead sprint without even responding.

Don't get him wrong, Claude feels bad for Teach… but it's just so fucking _funny_. He'll clear up the misunderstanding at some point if someone else doesn't, but for now it's better entertainment than any theater.

Her expressions might not say much, but Teach's body language says that she's disheartened. Claude decides he should at least comfort her if he's not solving the problem. He steps out from the corner he was watching behind and walks up to her. "Hey Teach… no luck?"

"No." The woman replies dully. "He ran, before I could say more than one word."

"Ah, that sucks."

"Is that… normal?"

"Not really." Claude shrugs.

"Then why do they run?"

"Dunno." Claude lies. "I mean, aside from the fact you're sorta scary, I dunno."

Byleth tilts her head. "But I don't try to be scary… not to them at least."

"So you try to be scary to some people?"

"Yes. To students." She replies bluntly. "I need to maintain a certain air of power to keep their respect. If I am soft, they will not listen."

"That explains so much." Claude chuckles. "I mean, you're mostly wrong, but it explains a lot."

"I am not wrong." Byleth refutes. "You do not pay nearly as much attention to Hanneman and Manuela as you do myself, or Rhea. It is only those with an air of power that you focus on."

"I mean…" Well, she's not wrong. Also, he needs to start being more subtle apparently. "Fair enough, but you don't need to scare everyone to achieve that."

"But that is the only way _I_ can achieve it." Byleth responds flatly. "I am not eloquent, nor am I a grand ruler, nor do I have many connections… well, not an exorbitant amount, so intimidation is my best choice."

Claude shakes his head. "If you say so Teach. Erm, incidentally, do you talk to Manuela?"

"Pardon?"

"Manuela. She also has… romantic difficulties. If you need someone to empathize with you, she's a good bet."

Yes, Claude is aware he basically just called Manela hopeless in love but… well it's _true_. Besides, Byleth probably needs someone she can chat with about such things, because she seems hopeless as well (albeit for an entirely different reason).

"No, I have not." Byleth responds. She's quiet for a second, then adds. "I don't know if I should thank you, or punch you for insinuating I'm hopeless."

Claude chuckles. "I'll take a thank you."

"I'm sure you will." Byleth says flatly. She turns around and walks off.

"Rude!" Claude calls after her, smirking.

"I know you are." She snarks in return. "Thanks… I _guess_."

Claude chuckles as he watches her leave. Teach is so much fun.

###

Edelgard blinks slowly. She's never seen the professor's _personal_ training… and it's quite something to behold. She's seen the training the professor gives to Petra before, which involves a lot of jumping from rooftops and learning to scale walls. The professor's self-training is something else though.

Leaping across rooftops is the bare minimum for her. She practices various landings, usually various types of roles, and various ways of jumping across gaps involving no shortage of flips, midair twists and midair dagger throws, long jumps, high jumps, the occasional jump into wall scaling if the building she's going for is higher than the one she's jumping from, and so on.

Her parkour practice is similarly intense. That involves wall scaling of course, but also minor optimizations to movement like small leaps over obstacles rather than moving to the side, or somersaulting under obstacles rather than ducking to maintain momentum. She also does various attacks at the air while keeping up her movement. Sword slashes, dagger trusts, flying kicks, and what looks like a number of ariel body slams and takedowns that looks strange only because she isn't actually hitting anything.

She never seems to stop moving, not even when transitioning from one type of practice to another. Nothing is off-limits either. She clambers on the cathedral, the school buildings, and the surrounding mountain with impunity, performing several maneuvers that Edelgard worries would get anyone else killed.

While she doubts most of the professor's techniques could be used in warfare, considering most of them would be impractical against foes with any sort of metal armor or when multiple foes are present, against anyone else she has hundreds of ways of subduing or killing them, and all at extremely high speed in either hit-and-run or run-by attacks. Combine that with an ability to climb nearly anything, and her seduction and stealth skills, and you have a terrifying assassin.

More worrisome still is when the professor leaps over Edelgard as she's walking around and simply calls down "Hi Edelgard" without looking away from her training.

The professor must have known she was watching. That's incredible... and worrying.

She needs to make sure she and the professor never end up on opposite sides, through getting the professor on _her_ side, or just eliminating her.

###

"There's your target." Byleth whispers, pointing at the figure nervously walking the streets below. "Don't be detected. If she hears you, you lose, if she sees you, you lose. You need to put a hand on her shoulder without her seeing you first to succeed."

"Understood Professor." Petra nods. "If this intended to be a simple test?"

"Far from it." Byleth murmurs. "Bernadetta is far more alert than your average student. While she seldom pinpoints me before I can get close, she _frequently_ notices me despite my best efforts. She's sharp. I'm not expecting you to succeed, I simply want to see how close you can get."

"Sharp? Are you speaking of her nails on the fingers?"

"No, sharp as in… aware. Alert. Quick of eye and acute of hearing."

"I understand. Thank you Professor." Petra nods again. "I shall begin."

"Good luck."

Petra leaps from the roof they're standing on over to the next, getting as close to directly behind Bernadetta as she can. She surveys the area, noting the lack of direct cover behind the smaller girl, but also the number of alleyways she could duck into.

No, no, that won't work. The Professor said she has good ears. A better idea would be to find out where she's _going_ to go, and wait there. A trap.

So, rather than directly go after Bernadetta, Petra watches her. The girl is heading _away_ from her room, which is unusual. There aren't any classes soon, and dinner isn't for another two hours. She's heading down past the mess hall…

Aha! The greenhouse! Bernadetta is having fondness for meat-eating plants!

Petra takes off as quickly as she can. She drops into the alleyway that runs behind the dormitories and sprints towards the greenhouse, knowing that she'll easily outpace the other girl. She comes in through the back entrance, notes that there's no gardener inside which is convenient, and sequesters herself behind some of the taller plants at the back.

The front door creaks open, and there's soft footsteps as Bernadetta moves inside. Petra tenses, preparing to move as soon as she sees an opportunity.

She doesn't get the chance though. Bernadetta spies a small bit of Petra's hair though the foliage and stammers out "wh-who's there?" which means Petra has failed her mission.

"Hmm… not bad." Byleth murmurs, causing both girls to turn in surprise. The teacher is leaning against the doorway, having gotten in behind Bernadetta when she opened the door. Bernadetta yelps and backpedals, then yelps again when Petra steps out from behind the plants. "You got closer than I expected."

"Thank you Professor." Petra says, and gives her a small bow. "However, I shall try to do better next time."

"Wh-Wh-What's going on?!" Bernadetta shrieks.

"Practice." Byleth says calmly. "Incidentally, well done Bernadetta. Your eyes are as sharp as always. Petra, let us move elsewhere to discuss."

"Yes Professor."

"Well done? Sharp eyes? What are you talking about!?" Bernadetta whines as the two other women leave the room. "I'm being tested? Oh goddess, I wasn't told! What do I do!? Oh no, oh no…"

* * *

**Yeah, sure, this works. More of the same for the most part.**


	7. Petra

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses all rights to the owners.**

**Updates for this story are going to be much more infrequent. I consider it basically complete as is. Anything from here on out are just extras that cross my mind.**

**I'm taking an idea suggested by a reviewer (a guest by the name BlackAndGreenGriffon) in focusing on Petra for this chapter, mirroring the focus on Mercedes in **_**Peculiar Professor**_**. They don't have the same relationship dynamic **_**at all**_**, but just like Mercedes and that version of Byleth, Petra holds the potential to bring out more in this version of Byleth than other characters, because just like Mercedes and Peculiar Byleth, Petra is the only character where this Byleth acts as more than just their comedic premise.**

* * *

"Professor. I have return."

"Returned." Byleth corrects, not looking up from her work. "Report."

"I did the spying on Hubert as you requested." Petra says. She carefully sits down on the wooden beam next to her teacher. They're up in the rafters of the Black Eagles classroom currently. It's just after lunch on a saturday. "It was… not perfect."

"Continue."

"I had done staying to shadows as we trained, and followed him from roofs. However, after an hour, he spoke to me. I do not know how long he knew I was there."

"As expected of Hubert." Byleth nods absently. "Did you learn anything?"

"Hubert walks very slowly."

The older woman snorts, amused. "Anything else?"

Petra shakes her head. Despite the professor not looking at her, she knows Byleth will know she nodded. "He did very little of note. It seemed as if he was taking a walk around this monastery. He went to out-of-the-way locations for a student, such as the storehouse and the knight's quarters."

"And that is not of note?"

"I do not think so. Am I wrong?"

"You tell me."

Petra frowns and thinks. "He is… planning to kill everyone through poisoning the food store and finding out where the best knights sleep so he can assassinate them."

"Maybe." Byleth nods again. "But there is another possibility."

"What Professor?"

"He was patrolling for threats. Hubert is constantly on alert for potential assassins and dangers to Edelgard. He was likely keeping an eye on the less guarded areas." Byleth explains. "The knights' quarters are not guarded as heavily because it is expected that the knights can handle themselves and resources are better spent on the students. The storehouse… it _is_ guarded, but there is plenty of space to hide, and many things to tamper with that could be quite harmful. Food, spare weapons, crafting materials, all of them are essential to the running of the monastery."

"I see…"

"However, you could very well be right. It would do everyone well to be suspicious of Hubert." Byleth murmurs. "Your thoughts were valid, just remember that there is more than one possibility."

"Understood."

"Did you complete the secondary task?"

"Yes, I considered many ways to execute him… though I have concerns Professor."

"What?"

"I am concerning about being instructed to think about killing my classmates Professor."

"Concerned, not concerning." Byleth says. "Don't be worried about knowing how to kill people at any given moment. It's a necessary skill for an assassin. Besides, you never know when you'll have to kill a friend."

Petra blinks rapidly. Byleth keeps working as if nothing unusual happened, as if what she said was totally normal. Petra opens her mouth, closes it, then plucks up the courage to ask "Professor... have you had to kill a friend before?"

"Well, 'friend' might be a strong term, but I have had to kill members of my father's mercenaries before." She offers. "Sometimes they were long-term members too, who I'd known since I was young. They were very good at their facades, but I- well, usually Acrim at first- was a better investigator. We'd remove traitors and spies quietly, and Father would help grant the coverup for their death a level of legitimacy."

Petra hides a grimace. She has some worries about what the professor just said. "You claimed someone else, Acrim, found out first? How young were you when you had to remove someone?"

"Hmm… seven?" Byleth murmurs. "Or was it six…? It was just when I started my training."

Petra is appalled. "Your professor made you kill a teammate at _six_ years of age?"

"Well no, she was in the process of removing someone when I found her, and I decided to help. It was no big deal."

Petra disagrees with that. That is very much a big deal. A child should _not_ have to kill someone, _especially_ a teammate, at such a young age. She stays quiet however. This does not seem like the time for an argument.

"Unless you have anything more to report, you're dismissed. Keep up your stealth practice. Remember to complete your tactics assignment for tomorrow as well." Byleth murmurs. She finally looks up with her usual fixed, fake smile on her face. "Good day Petra."

"Good day Professor." Petra murmurs, and quietly leaves the classroom.

###

"Professor, there are many skills needed to be an assassin, yes?"

"Of course." Byleth nods. "Like poisoning. I swung my hand over your drink earlier when pointing out Dedue, how do you know I didn't poison your drink?"

"Because you are my teacher, and would not do such a thing."

"Wrong answer, and untrue. If you were a problem, I would eliminate you by any means necessary, student or not." Byleth responds bluntly. "It is an assassin's job to never trust."

"I see." Petra says. "However, poisoning was not what I was referring to."

"What then?"

"You have often mentioned to class that seduction is a dangerous tool that assassins know how to use… however, you have not been teaching me any of the things about seduction."

"Correct."

Petra expected her teacher to elaborate, but Byleth doesn't say anything more. The Brigidine girl frowns slightly in confusion. "Why not?"

"I have reasons."

Petra may not be perfect with the language of Fodlan and all their social conventions, but she can recognize when someone is trying not to give a straight answer. It seems strange to her that her teacher would be reluctant to speak openly about this though. She usually has no issues talking about seduction and the use of sexuality, flirtation, and sex as it pertains to manipulation, spying, and assassination in class. To have her dance around the topic here seems odd and arbitrary.

"And what are those reasons?"

"Good reasons."

The purple-haired girl frowns. "What good reasons?"

"Ones that I have put much thought into."

Petra's frown grows deeper. Maybe she shouldn't push this. She takes a sip of her water, and immediately spits it out.

"I slipped some salt into your water. I even warned you I could have poisoned it." Byleth remarks flatly, and continues eating without missing a beat while Petra wipes water off herself. "Tsk."

###

"Professor, why do the monastery staff flee when you approach them?"

Byleth's eye twitches for a moment. She continues her training with renewed vigour. "I have a reputation."

"Yes…?"

"They think I am trying to kill them."

"I see." Petra blinks. "Why?"

"They think I tried to kill Sylvain when I dangled him off the walls, which isn't true, so now they all avoid me if I try to flirt with them."

"Flirt?"

"Yes." Byleth says curtly. Petra detects a bit of an edge in her tone. "When I am off duty."

"I see." Petra is slightly worried. People _flee_ when the professor tries to talk with them? She can't help but feel bad for her teacher. From what Petra is aware, the professor barely has a social life to speak of, so the thought of her attempts to find new connections failing so miserably is saddening. "Do you wish for help in fixing-"

"No." Byleth says curtly, cutting her pupil off. "I can handle myself, thank you Petra."

"As you wish…"

###

It's four months into the school year when Petra realizes the professor doesn't trust her, or anyone for that matter.

Petra starts to realize this when she tries to put a hand on the professor's shoulder to get her attention, and the woman turns around (dodging her hand) before she can make contact.

Coincidence, surely. That's what she thinks at the time anyhow.

Then she sees the same thing happen when Edelgard tries to talk with her. So the next several times, Petra makes a conscious effort to try and lay a hand on the professor. Every single time the professor _conveniently_ turns or moves at the last moment to prevent contact. The only time she allows contact is in sparring, and even then that only happens when she can abuse that contact (usually with a grapple or a cheap hit). Outside of sparring she _never_ allows physical contact from anyone (with the sole exception of Jeralt).

It seems strange to Petra. She realizes Fodlan has a more reserved culture as a whole than Brigid, but the professor avoids even the most casual and harmless gestures, and the only other people she can think of who do similar things are Bernadetta (out of paranoia) and maybe Felix (because he's grouchy).

The conclusion that her avoidance comes from lack of trust is the obvious answer. Byleth is always warning her to be cautious of everyone, but Petra never considered that the professor might be cautious of _her_. It makes sense in retrospect, but it's a saddening realization.

Does she trust _anyone_ aside from her father?

###

"Professor." Petra says firmly. "I am having concern about you."

"Really?" Byleth responds with a raised eyebrow. "How so?"

"I think you are paranoid professor."

"I am indeed." The lady agrees shamelessly. "Is that an issue?"

"I think yes." Petra frowns. "Professor, you do not seem to have any friends or close companions, you avoid any sort of touch out of what I presume is hyper-vigillence, you are constantly thinking about how to _kill_ everyone around you, and I do not think you trust anyone… not even your own students, not _me_."

"Of course I don't." Byleth blinks. She says this as if it's obvious, as if there was never any question that she didn't trust them. The instant confirmation stings more than the realization itself did. Petra had felt a measure of closeness with her teacher, especially after being taken on as an apprentice, so this feels like a rejection to her. "I've taught you about this before, haven't I? Suspect everyone, be prepared to take out anyone, no exceptions. Never put yourself in a situation where you could be made vulnerable without a good reason and an escape plan, even if that situation is as simple as a handshake."

Petra doesn't consider herself emotional. Far from it. She's dealt with being what amounts to a political prisoner for years at this point, so she's had to have a good grasp on her emotions. Still, she can't stop her hands from trembling a bit. Anger? Sadness? Both? Something else? Something though, certainly something, and that seems to Petra to be more than Byleth can manage. "_I_ trusted _you_ Professor."

"A mistake." Byleth responds flatly. "It's safer, physically and emotionally, _not_ to do that."

"As you've demonstrated." Petra can't help but have a bit of bitterness in her voice.

"_You_ demonstrated it by making that mistake." Byleth corrects, completely tone deaf to Petra's growing anger… or maybe she's just ignoring it. "Now you've learned, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Good." She turns her back and goes back to work. "I'll see you tomorrow morning for stealth training. Dismissed."

###

Despite the confrontation leaving a sour taste in her mouth and in her heart, Petra keeps up her training with the professor. She doesn't stop trying to understand the woman either, though she keeps her emotions are arms length this time. There are still some other parts of Byleth she wants to understand.

"Professor, why do you teach us?"

The woman turns to look at her, with her fake smile affixed to her face as always. "I was hired to."

"Why?"

"Because I have a goddess in my head."

Petra blinks slowly. "Pardon?"

"I was hired because Rhea cares about the goddess in my head." Byleth says with absolute honesty.

"I see." Petra does _not_ see, so she changes tactics. "But why did _you_ grab the job?"

"Take, not grab." Byleth corrects. "But… I took it because I had nothing better to do. My father was forced back into being the captain of the knights of Seiros, and so when I was offered a teaching position I took it simply to have something to do and make money."

"That's very cold professor."

"I'm a mercenary and an assassin, did you expect otherwise?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, my view has changed over the months I have been here."

"How so?"

"I care now, about you students, whereas before I saw you as a means to make money." Her smile shifts almost imperceptibly down a fraction, closer to a frown. "It is an objectively poor decision on my part to care. I am too human for my own good, unfortunately."

Petra frowns. "Not long ago you told me you did not care for us, why has your heart altered?"

"I said I didn't _trust_ you." Byleth corrects. "Do not mistake trust and care Petra. You can care for someone without trusting them, and trust someone without caring for them. An assassin, ideally, doesn't care for or trust anyone, but care is much harder to be rid of than trust. Trust is logical, care is emotional. Emotions are always problematic."

"That is no way to live Professor." Petra retorts. "To live without emotion is to not live."

"It's the _best_ way to live." Byleth disagrees. "If you never trust and never care, you are never hurt, never betrayed, and you never lose. You are always prepared for even the most drastic change because you expect nothing and are prepared for everything."

"You are also never happy."

"Not true. Emotions are problematic, but they can be acceptable in a controlled environment."

"You are going back on your own words Professor." Petra frowns. "Does your poor flirting count as controlled?"

Byleth's lips thin almost imperceptibly. Petra can see it though. She's getting under the older woman's skin a bit. Petra doesn't consider herself petty, but she can't deny some vengeful joy at seeing the woman annoyed. "Yes."

"But how could you be considering a relationship if you do not trust?" Petra presses. "That is quite unfair to the other person Professor."

"I- hmm…" The woman blinks. Her fake smile fades into a frown. It's the first time Petra can remembering seeing a different expression on her teacher's face. "That's a fair point."

"Is it not?" Petra nods. "I say this not to be rude Professor, but I think your views may need change. They seem… to be problems."

"'Need to be changed' and 'problematic'." Byleth corrects in a murmur. "But… hmm… maybe." She turns her back. "I'm cancelling our private lesson tonight."

"Understood. You need to think?"

"I'm getting too easy to read." The woman whispers. Her fake smile slips back onto her face. "Yes. Good day Petra."

"Good day Professor."

###

Byleth honestly never considered the fact that she might be _wrong_ about something. Or, at least, not wrong about anything she took herself to know very well. The first thing she learned from Acrim was to always be absolutely confident in yourself. An unsure assassin is a dead assassin, you need to have full confidence in your skills, your plan, your tools, and your reasons.

Petra seems determined to tear down her confidence, and worse yet it's working. She made a good point. Why does she bother flirting with _anyone_, badly or otherwise, if she has no intention to trust them? That's one of the pillars of marriage, or so she's heard at least.

She should talk to Jeralt, and probably Acrim too.

It doesn't feel right to think she might have to trust someone aside from her father though. It sounds like an objectively stupid thing to do. You might as well be holding a sign reading: "backstab me!"

That's not the only thing she realized today though. Somehow Petra had gotten the impression that she did not care about her, which is bullshit. Perhaps she should have anticipated that the girl would mess up care with trust, it's an easy mistake to make.

Still, Byleth feels uncomfortable with the idea she may have to be more open about herself with someone. Especially Petra, who she's been teaching to manipulate, sneak up on, and kill people for months at this point. She _knows_ Petra can backstab her with ease.

"_You're overthinking this, you'll be fine._" Sothis huffs.

"_That's easy for you to say. You're immortal. If I get a knife slid between my ribs, I'm gone._"

Sothis sighs. "_That won't happen. In case you haven't noticed, despite your oddities, many of your students are quite fond of you_."

Byleth frown. "_It still feels wrong_."

"_Boo-hoo. You're an adult, deal with it_." The goddess says. "_By the way, I have another question._"

"_What?_"

"_You never did explain why you refused to teach Petra seduction._"

"_Ah that._" She sighs. "_I'm not oblivious to the fact that my attempts to flirt don't end well, but my seduction is quite good. I don't want her to end up like that and ruin her chances at romance._"

"_That's absurd._" Sothis snorts. "_You're messed up in the romance department from learning seduction too early… and just being generally weird._"

"_I am not weird_."

"_Suuuure you're not…_"

###

"Petra."

"Ah-! Oh, Professor." The girl breathes. "I did not notice you. You are still beyond my ability to detect."

"Good. I haven't lost my touch." Byleth says. She closes the window behind her and sits down on the bed. "We need to talk."

"I see." Petra says in a voice that makes it clear she expected this to happen at some point. She crosses her legs and waits. "What is it Professor?"

"I don't trust you."

"You've told me such before."

"Yes… so how do I trust people?"

Petra blinks. "I'm not sure that's something that can be _taught_ Professor."

"Ah." The hint of disappointment in Byleth's voice is audible. "I see."

"Perhaps, simply… replicate the behavior of someone interacting with a person they trust." Petra suggests. "Like Annette with Mercedes, or vice-versa."

"I should cook badly or make sweets?"

"Not quite."

"Give someone a nickname?"

"No, not that either."

"Go shopping?"

"No."

"Use magic?"

"No."

"Then what?" Byleth asks, starting to get frustrated.

"I mean how they don't assume the other is trying to kill them, and generally don't suspect their intentions." Petra murmurs.

"Oh." The woman blinks. Byleth already knew that, she was just hoping for an easier way out. "Right, of course. So… don't stab me."

Petra raises an eyebrow in confusion, and then raises the other in shock when the woman leans forward and pulls her into a hug. "O-Oh."

"I presume this isn't what normal people do. Especially not a teacher to a student." Byleth says calmly. "But… this is the best I can do for now, it's what I know how to do, and… I'm _trusting_ you won't use this against me."

Not quite what Petra had in mind, but that works. It's a step. An awkward, probably not technically appropriate step according to monastery rules, but she's not about to hold it against her teacher. Considering her social incompetence, this works fine.

"I won't betray your trust Professor."

"That's the hope…"

* * *

**Hmm… hmm… eh… I think there's **_**some**_ **way this could be done really well, and this chapter isn't it. I think the intent got across, but the execution is… lacking. Too much tell, not enough show, and lacking the usual intimidation that makes this Byleth tick. Still, I'll put this out. I like having this and Peculiar Professor mirror each other, though I think from now on I **_**won't**_ **do that. This will be the last mirrored chapter just for the sake of freeing up both to do their own thing in the future.**


	8. Unintended Imitimidation

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.**

**Insert something intelligent here.**

* * *

He must have done something wrong, but for the life of him he can't think what. He can't even remember any dates he might have gone on, or any flirting that might have gone particularly poorly.

So why is the Professor having a meal with him? The last time she was nice to him in any way, it ended up with him being dangled off a cliff after she stole all of his stuff. She didn't request his presence, nor has she said anything, she just sat down next to him during lunch without a word.

Somehow he's more wary now than he would have been if she'd acted like her normal self and… he doesn't know, held a dagger to his throat or something, jumped down from the ceiling, _something_.

Sylvain watches her from the corner of his eye as he eats, waiting for the moment she pulls a dagger or does that _something_ like she usually does.

But she doesn't. Through the entire meal she doesn't. When she leaves, Sylvain ends up feeling like he must have missed something, like there was a test he failed.

He ends up looking over his shoulder the entire rest of the day.

###

"That's a nice painting."

Ignatz freezes for a moment, then lets out an explosive sigh. "Monica, please sto- oh, uh, Professor!" The boy's voice rises in pitch from surprise when he turns around to not see the person he expected, and not with her face only an inch away. "I was expecting someone else!"

"So I guessed." The lady blinks. "Is her training going well?"

"Y-Yes! She's a natural! I'm not sure how much my training is actually helping, she probably surpasses me already…" Ignatz admits, and leans back slightly to put some distance between her face and his.

"She sneaks up on you often?"

"Yes." He sighs. "She seems to find it funny. I think she enjoys startling me more than she actually cares about my tutoring."

Byleth tilts her head. "Is she rude? Do I have to 'talk' with her?"

"N-No! Nothing so bad!" Ignatz says hastily. "I just think she's a bit _bored_ with me is all. Not really her fault."

Byleth's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "I see."

Ignatz silently crosses his fingers that the professor doesn't confront Monica. It really isn't a problem.

"Your painting then, is it going well?"

"I- uh- yes?"

"You aren't sure?"

"No, i-it's fine." He stammers. The professor is showing an unusual amount of interest today, it's honestly a bit nerve-wracking. Is she judging him? When she's been nice to other people it's usually because she's about to show how she could kill them. Should he be worried? "Everything is fine."

"I see." She blinks. Her fake smile doesn't match her neutral tone, and it's honestly starting to creep Ignatz out. "And it wasn't fine, you'd tell me, _right_?"

"O-Of course."

"Good." She pulls her head away, turns around, and walks off.

Ignatz lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The Professor has always been intimidating, but today more so than usual. Did he do something wrong? Did Monica do something wrong? Is something wrong in general?

"_Another_ sunset huh?"

"Ack- Pro-! Monica! I didn't see you-"

"Well obviously, or you wouldn't be surprised!" She grins. "What's up with the Professor?"

"She was just asking about my painting and your training."

"And you told her it was going well, _right_?"

"Of course!" Ignatz nods. "You're really good! Maybe already better than me…"

"Do I even need to keep being tutored then?"

"Probably not…" Ignatz admits reluctantly. "You'll have to take it up with the professor though, she's the one who requested you be tutored, and you'll probably need to demonstrate you're capable with bows as proof."

"Pff, I can do that."

"Probably." Igatnz agrees, with a small bit of internal reluctance. He enjoys being able to help someone, so not needing to tutor her anymore will be a bit saddening. That and just having someone to talk to was nice. Due to his introverted hobbies and the _loud_ personalities of the rest of the Golden Deer, he doesn't really have anyone he talks to on a regular basis except her and maybe Raphael.

"I'll do that then!" She smirks. "Then you'll have me off your back, right?"

"Th-That-! I never said-"

Monica snorts and skips back a step. "You're quite easy, aren't you Ignatz?"

"Easy? What do you-?"

"See ya! I have to discuss something with Edel. I'll find you in the afternoon at the usual time. Maybe for one of the _last_ lessons!"

Ignatz watches with mild sadness and confusion as she strides off. "_It seems she's quite eager to be rid of me..._"

###

Bernadetta yelps when a hand suddenly lands on her shoulder. She tries to bolt, but the hand is strong and holds her in place. The lavender-haired girl slowly turns around, looking fearfully up the person restraining her.

That person, of course, is Byleth. The woman smiles down at her student with her usual fixed smile. From Bernadetta's perspective though, especially with her overly active imagination, you could mistake the smile for a leer.

"Bernadetta." The older woman says calmly. "You're late."

"I-I-I-" Bernadetta stammers frantically, glancing to her window which is now open. Of course she came in through there. "I-I was coming, I swear! I just slept in late this time! That's all! Don't kill me!"

"I won't kill you." Byleth says. Bernadetta swears she can see the woman's eyes crinkle in amusement, and it sends chills down her spine. "I promise."

"_Something worse than death!_" Bernadetta realizes, horrified. "_Torture!_"

"So, if you're not feeling up for class today, I won't _force_ you to come, though I _heavily_ encourage it."

"N-No, it's fine, I'll come, I'll come!" The girl yelps. Byleth's grip loosens for a moment, and she breaks free with a desperate scramble for her notes and quill case. "I-I-I'm ready, see? J-Just fine! I'm w-walking out the door now! Hahahaha…"

As soon as her professor is out of sight, Bernadetta makes a mad dash for the classroom. Somehow her teacher still makes it there before her, and is smiling eerily at her entrance.

###

"There you are Teach!" Claude shouts as he clambers up the side of the building. "Gah, geeze, how do you and Petra do this all the time…?"

"Practice." She replies calmly. "It took you long enough to notice me. I've been watching you for several minutes."

"That bad?"

"Better than most."

"Still not reassuring…" The boy sighs. "Welp, uh, so I have to talk to you about something."

"Hmm?"

"So people are starting to worry." Claude says slowly. "You've been acting a bit _off_ lately, and you're kinda freaking everyone out."

"Off? How?"

"Well, uh, you're less… you. You aren't telling people how you could kill them, you're being _nice_ sometimes, and just not acting like yourself." The boy explains hesitantly. "So… uh… you feeling alright?"

"Yes." She says flatly.

"Right…" Claude is still suspicious. "If you need help with something you can just ask, you know?"

"I have my own resources." She responds curtly. "I need not ask my own students."

"Ah, uh, right, the mercs." Claude coughs. "But still, if you need something…"

"I understand."

"Okay, as long as you know…"

###

"Petra."

"Yes Professor?" The girl says promptly, hiding the fact that she's startled. She didn't hear her teacher enter the room. She still needs to be more attentive apparently…

"Report."

The younger girl is confused for a second, but then understands. Her assignment, of course that's what she means. "I followed Claude through the day. He was somewhat of difficulty to keep tracked while hiding myself. However, I _believe_ I did remain not detected."

"What did he do?"

"He visited his classmates mostly, but also spent time finding yourself. You both talked just after noon." Petra recounts. "I ceased following him after dinner, as I have work of my own to do."

Byleth nods. "Good." She stares for a moment, then says. "Petra, I have a question."

"Yes Professor?"

"Claude told me that I seemed 'off' today. Do you agree with that statement?"

Petra considers her response carefully. Is this a test, or does the Professor genuinely want her opinion? Honesty, she decides, is still the best policy. "Yes, you were different."

"How so?"

"You were more indirect today."

"Indirect?"

"Rather than your usual direct pointing out of problems, you said little today, and attempted to allow people to figure out what was wrong on their own."

"I see…" Byleth's voice is quiet. "Thank you Petra."

She strides out of the room through the front door, leaving Petra feeling like she missed something.

###

"It's not funny."

"It's _hilarious_!" Jeralt disagrees with a wide smile. "The one day you're _not_ trying to scare the pants off them, they think you're testing them and get even _more_ paranoid! You've conditioned them well Kid!"

Byleth grumbles under her breath and glares at her father.

"What? It's not like _they're_ going to realize you've had a minor change of heart." Jeralt reminds her. "As far as they're concerned, you're just acting weird; which, with someone like you, is something to be wary of."

"They should be wary _all_ the time." Byleth huffs. "Not just now."

"Come on Kid, even _you_ aren't wary _all_ the time."

"Wrong. I am always on guard." Byleth denies. "Constant vigilance is required for an assassin."

"I thought you'd decided to tune that down?"

"..._almost_ always on guard."

Jeralt raises an eyebrow. "And what would Acrim think of that?"

"Do you want me to be on guard or not?" Byleth asks dryly.

The man shrugs indifferently, smiling. He finds this whole situation more funny than anything. "Your choice Kid."

Byleth continues to glower. She should have known better than to try and talk to her father… but then again, who else could she really say she trusts? A parent is a parent after all, provided they aren't awful… like Bernadetta's.

Hmm… maybe she should kill them. She'll ask Bernadetta about that, it might help her.

* * *

**There we go. This chapter felt a bit more natural. Incorporating some of Byleth's minor changes from last chapter too.**


End file.
